Excerpt from my essay “Endangered” published in the Examined Life Journal, Volume 11 (2024)
“We fly to Florida in early January, fleeing Canada’s snow and ice. Two days later, my partner in life and travel sits beside me on the outdoor patio of Mulligan’s Beach House overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. Azure-blue sky borders the saltwater, which sunlight refracts and resolves into multi-layered shades of turquoise. At the horizon, a delicate ribbon of periwinkle haze shimmers. Maybe it’s an ordinary day for most people here. But for me, it’s a joyful re-awakening, as if I’m meeting myself again after a long absence. Hello, old friend, I whisper inwardly, both a welcome and a blessing.
Speakers blare 80s-themed music overhead. Glenn Frey’s “You Belong to the City” transports me back to my twenties when I lived in New York City, to a carefree time when going out for lunch was something I didn’t think twice about. However, the world is different in 2023 after the COVID-19 pandemic, and the past three years have not been kind to our health. We’re physically weaker and more vulnerable due to chronic illness (Brian’s lymphoma, my autoimmune conditions). I’m more aware than ever of lurking dangers.
At nearby tables, people gather in small groups while staff serve drinks and overflowing plates of food. I smell onion rings and fries, but we’re not tempted. Two glasses of water (no ice) and fish tacos for us, one of the few healthy choices on the menu. Even so, my stomach will act up in a few days. Overheard conversations about jobs, families, where people are from, and how long they’re in town, fall gently on my ears. It’s been too long since I’ve been out in a public space without a mask, too long since feeling like I’m part of the world.
January 2022
Foot-high snowbanks lined Toronto streets and walkways. I watched the world from my office window overlooking the park that was not off-leash, although most dog owners treated it that way. The morning parade of dogs filed by early, nosing the ground, squatting or raising a leg. Their owners followed, bending and scooping. Sometimes the doberman chased the bijons and chihuahuas who yipped and yapped and jumped in fear or excitement; it was hard to say. The small dog owners glared at the doberman’s owner, squaring off at opposite ends of the park. They all wore masks like seasonal fashion accessories as Covid had waxed and waned—more so in 2020, less in 2021, back again in 2022, the year of Omicron.”
——-
The Examined Life Journal is a US-based literary publication of the University of Iowa Carver College of Medicine. Volume 11 is available as a print anthology through the ELJ website or from Amazon.ca.
Back to Complete List of Blog Posts:
