Friday, March 5, 2021…9:43am
The end of week 51 – also the week I had my first dose of the Moderna vaccine. Who would have ever guessed a vaccine appointment – in a parking garage, at a local college, with a small mob of other people – would be considered an inflection point? And yet, here we are.
This time last year, the COVID-19 vaccines did not exist. Today, only about 16% of the US population has received a vaccine. The fact that I am lucky enough to be so early in the distribution is both bonkers and humbling. I do not take a moment of this for granted.
This week also saw our local fire department providing a first dose of vaccine to 300 teachers and staff members in our city school district. The elementary schools in our district are now open on a blended model, and it’s beginning to feel like my middle schooler and high schooler may just get back into their classrooms following Spring Break. Maybe. Possibly. Do I dare go so far as to say I am “cautiously optimistic”?
Cautious optimism feels like a safe space to be right now. It creates space to hope and plan, while also recognizing that we are still living in the midst of a constantly evolving global health crisis. I am beginning to see the possibilities on the horizon for a return to school for my kids, a relaunch of in person program and ministry opportunities for me at work, potential travel in the months ahead, and the cautious crafting of the next chapter of life. The vaccine was the first step in providing me (some) immunity to the virus, but it also gave me an injection of hope. (Corny, I know. But no apologies!)
Every shot in an individual arm is a good shot for us all collectively. My still aching arm is a tangible reminder that the vaccine is for all of us and that personal choices can have huge impact on our communities. Every shot in an individual arm is a good shot and a reason for cautious optimism, I am bone deep weary heading into the final days of year one in pandemic life, but there is hope. Cautious optimistic.
Be well my friends.