Sunday I was going to return to Contra Costa, which is my official residence now, when I suddenly extended my visit in the City instead. It occurred to me that 2021 is the first time in 50 years that San Francisco is not my legal home base, and I'm still getting used to that.
Maybe I just need to extend my stay for a few more days, I told myself.
These kinds of insights, like the reality of retirement itself, sink in only gradually over time. This is the twentieth month since I earned a paycheck of any kind, and only now is the meaning of that becoming clear.
I probably have the pandemic to thank for this suspended state of confusion. That day in March 2020 that I sat in the lobby of the assisted care facility on the peninsula waiting for my son-in-law to pick me up for a short visit away is in some ways clearer in my memory than any day since.
I had two bags stuffed with my clothes, plus my computer bag, two extension cords for my phone, a baseball hat, my cane, some rolls of toilet paper, cans of soup and a giant box of brown paper coffee filters #9.
I sat alone and still on the couch in the lobby while around me, a frantic urgency filled the air. The facility was in the process of locking itself down, though nobody knew quite yet what that meant. New procedures had been decreed but no one seemed to know how exactly they were to be enforced.
Nobody in, nobody out. That was one of the rules. But over 100 of us elderly residents lived there and we received constant shipments of things, including toilet paper, cans of soup, and coffee filters.
Plus visitors, including our physical therapists, social workers, in-home care personnel and so on. Some of us lucky ones counted on that one weekly visit from a child, grandchild or friend as the highlight of our isolated lives.
Everyone knew something supposedly bad was on the way, a super virus, but nobody knew its name yet. I'm not going to say we were panicking, because that suggests rapid, fast movements or feelings -- neither of which are typical among old people.
Nope, not us. We'd seen it all before -- polio, AIDS, SARS, whatever -- plus we usually do everything slowly, methodically, pondering every step. After all, even getting up from the couch is an accomplishment worthy of note.
The lady at the front desk wore an exasperated expression. The phone just kept ringing and ringing, as did that damn doorbell buzzer.
Trucks from FedEx, UPS, AmazonPrime, DoorDash, InstaCart, USPS, and other more obscure courier services pulled up into the little roundabout outside and drivers unloaded their boxes. They heaved them onto a growing pile next to the front door, punched a few digits into their phones or tablets, and slipped a paper recipe under the door.
There were signs everywhere about "Wear Your Mask," and "Return to Your Room," and Dining Room Closed Until Further Notice."
Some of the delivery men insisted on remaining at the door with their cargo, because they needed a signature. They buzzed incessantly, demanding the poor receptionist's attention. Not wanting to feel useless, I sprang up (relatively speaking) to accommodate them, not fully realizing this was not really sanctioned behavior.
"You know you don't really have to do that," she spoke softly to me, but she smiled nonetheless.
Certain residents had passes allowing them to exit the facility. They had medical appointments or such, and their rides were waiting outside. Some used canes, like I did. Others were pushing themselves in electric carts that they controlled by pushing buttons. A handful could walk unaided.
I rose to escort the weaker ones on their way.
Outside in the sunlight, S from Kenya, was minding to the flowers and bushes that lined the sidewalks greeting our visitors. He was 78, a kindly, soft-spoken fellow who told me it wasn't part of his job to do this work; he just liked to do it. In fact he was a resident like me, and cared for his younger brother who had dementia.
They had two rooms upstairs in the facility. His brother napped frequently and always had his TV playing in the background, though he couldn't understand anything the talking heads were saying.
Downstairs, nobody spoke except for the receptionist when answering the phone or the door buzzer. The tension that hung over all of us was like that scene in Casablanca when Rick and Sam are waiting to board the last train out of Paris before the Germans arrive.
But it wasn't raining and the invaders were tiny invisible creatures flowing toward us from the Far East.
Finally Loic appeared outside the door trying to locate the buzzer or the outside phone; normally he could just walk in through the unlocked door. I could see him but he couldn't see me in the darkened interior.
All kinds of signs had been hastily pasted on the glass doors; it felt like we were inside some sort of contaminated facility, when of course we were at that time the pristine, virus-free, perfect ones...the contamination was out there among all of them.
I got up to let Loic in. The receptionist helped him sign me out on the electronic signature pad. She nodded over at me and whispered: "He keeps getting up to help everybody. He doesn't know..." She thought I couldn't hear very well but that particular day I was hearing every sound, feeling every nerve ending.
As we loaded my paltry possessions into the car, Loic said cheerily "Is that it?" and I settled in for the drive north. Ours was the only car leaving, every other vehicle had labels on its side. As we exited the parking lot, I looked back and saw S standing up and peering at us as we disappeared.
We locked eyes.
I never saw him or that place, my home, again.
[ To be continued...]
***
The heds:
* Searching for Love -- the pandemic hasn't helped (New Yorker)
* Israel kills 42 in Gaza as Netanyahu warns war will go on (AP)
* Tensions Among Democrats Grow Over Israel as the Left Defends Palestinians -- Divisions within the party have burst into public view, with the party’s ascendant left viewing the Mideast conflict as a searing racial justice issue that carries echoes of U.S. politics. (NYT)
* Central Banks Jump Into Climate-Change Policy Fray (WSJ)
* Cheney continues her lonely ‘battle for the soul of the Republican Party’ (WP)
* Palestinians Commemorate Annual Day of Grievance Amid Conflict -- People gathered in the West Bank on Saturday to honor Nakba Day, the anniversary of the 1948 displacement of hundreds of thousands of Palestinians during Israel’s creation. The demonstration is one of several that took place globally. (AP)
* Violence Shakes Trump’s Boast of ‘New Middle East’ -- Trump officials said the Abraham Accords between Israel and four Arab states would transform the region, but new Israeli-Palestinian clashes lay bare the limits of that change. (NYT)
* AT&T, Discovery in talks to combine content assets (Bloomberg News)
* Hundreds of bodies found buried along Indian riverbanks (AP)
* Netflix Movies Turn Up in a Surprising Place: Theaters (WSJ)
* Houses Of Worship Grapple With The Vaxxed And Unvaxxed Divide (NPR)
* The meat industry is doing exactly what Big Oil does to fight climate action (WP)
* Afghan cease-fire ends amid calls for fresh peace talks (AP)
* Herd community? Elephants show us how to coexist (Reuters)
* Sharks Use Earth's Magnetic Field as GPS to Navigate (Current Biology)
* Paris Bookstores Are Designated Essential — But These Landmarks Struggle To Survive (NPR)
* A surprising pandemic side effect: It has improved health care (WP)
* Steph Curry scored 46 points in the Warriors final regular season win over the Grizzlies, capturing the NBA scoring title and leading his team into the playoffs. (S.J. Mercury News)
* Area Man's Knee Making Weird Sound (The Onion)What's news to you
What's news to you, it ain't news to me
And what's blue to you, it ain't blue to me
(Blue to you) it ain't blue to me
It ain't new to me
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