Looking back on lockdown: What will you remember?

Has it only been a year of the pandemic?

It feels like it’s been a lifetime when reminiscing about the things we did before COVID, like the last time I ate inside of a restaurant.

Like most last times, I didn’t even realize it would be one. It was such a normal activity, but now It seems crazy to think about what I did back then…I walked into a place that was not my own home without a mask covering my face.

The hostess sat my sister and me at a table within six feet of other patrons. I drank water from a straw that another human being had placed in my drink. I used utensils that had been wrapped in a paper napkin by unknown hands.  I shared food from my plate!

I went to my car afterwards and said goodbye to my sister with a hug. Not once did I think about using hand sanitizer.

I feel like an old person saying this, but it was a different time back then. Reminiscing about a carefree lunch in a restaurant won’t change the reality of today. Masks, social distancing, hand sanitizer and elbow bumps are second nature now.

We can’t simply turn the clock back to the before COVID times but instead must move on with today…and maybe some homemade chilaquiles.

I was sitting in my car, parked at Walmart, anxiously waiting to listen to the 2 p.m. report from Gov. Pritzker.  It was near the end of the first round of lockdowns and restrictions.  I was so hoping to hear we were ready to return to normal.  

Instead, I heard the lockdown was being extended for another lump of several weeks–I think actually into three more months.  I remember tears rolling down my face.  I felt like I was living a sci-fi film.  

How could this be real? How could we live in a bubble, cut off from society, from our hobbies, from our families? We were prisoners in our own homes. 

I also remember crying over all the losses my son and his senior class were experiencing.  He lost his chance to go to prom. Senior overnight in his school. Senior day at Great America. And most of all, the most beautiful outdoor graduation ceremony that we looked forward to for the entire four years of him attending Carl Sandburg High School.  

A year into the pandemic, and I can hardly even remember society without masks. It has become normal, which is the scariest thing. If someone would have told “pre-pandemic” me what this past year had in store, I would’ve called them crazy.

The severity of COVID-19 didn’t strike me right away; I’m sure this was the same for a lot of people. The first time that the weight of this whole situation hit me is when Cook County went on lockdown.

I remember one of my close friends wanted to have a bonfire, and none of our parents would let us go out because the curfew was 9 p.m. sharp. My parents specifically feared that I would get into serious trouble if I was spotted out past curfew. It was such a weird feeling.

Here we are, a year later, and we’re learning to adjust. As a community, we are learning to live with the virus. But with vaccine distribution slowly rising, hope is rising too.

We can begin to look forward to things. Like the return of full fan attendance at sporting events and concerts. There’s nothing better than catching a baseball game on a warm summer evening with some of your best buds. Or sharing live music with friends. Or maybe even attending a bonfire without worrying about a curfew.

2020 was the year I was supposed to leap forward, and I was pushed backwards.

Just a few months before the pandemic hit, I had chosen my career path, and I was ready.

Pursuing journalism and staying close to my family were important to me, so I visited Columbia College Chicago.

Around this time, I had become a published writer for a website, and I was given my own podcast, so my opportunities were expanding. I visited Columbia and loved everything about it. I talked with the editor of the newspaper and the head of the radio department. My future looked clear.

Then, the pandemic hit, and schools went virtual. And my plans were put on pause.

But although this year of lockdown has threatened to lock down our lives, it’s important to seek the positives. If it weren’t for the pandemic, I wouldn’t have become so involved in Moraine’s journalism program, which has propelled my career as a writer. I have met some amazing people through the school and The Glacier itself, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to pursue my passions despite restrictions.

I have made big leaps as a reporter and feel even more confident in my path. I’m ready to move forward.

One year ago, a few friends and I decided to go bowling. In the midst of our casual activities, one of us glanced at his phone and saw something surprising on social media: NBA star Rudy Gobert, at the end of a press conference, making a joke out of touching everything surrounding him. As he left the room, he ran his hands over all the reporters’ microphones. He was trying to lighten the mood due to the new worries about COVID-19.

Two days later, he tested positive, along with some of his teammates. And things became surreal.

The NBA season was suspended. That was only the beginning, as restaurants, schools, and other businesses nationwide began shutting down.

I didn’t know what to expect. Like everyone else, I had to make unanticipated changes in my life. At times, it was overwhelming.

But one thing became clear: coronavirus was no joke.   

I remember in March 2020, when we were notified that the school would be extending its spring break, I was excited. I had no idea how serious the pandemic really was; I don’t think anyone really knew.

I tried to convince myself that quarantining wasn’t going to be that difficult. I liked to stay inside anyway. But something about not being able to go out freely, see people casually, or interact with others openly struck me at a certain point in late summer to fall.

Since then, I have just been trying to hold on. It doesn’t feel like we’re really experiencing life at the moment. It feels like we’re stuck in time.

Even now, after a whole year of this pandemic, I still haven’t gotten used to it. This whole situation is mentally and emotionally draining, and it’s affecting everyone in similar and different ways.

I know that eventually we’ll look back at this period and feel a sense of accomplishment at having gotten through it. We’ll walk through town without our masks and have a deeper appreciation for interactions and conversations — a deeper appreciation for life.