I don’t know if this happens to other people, but sometimes a song lyric from long ago will pop into my head, and I will burst into song. To be clear, I’m not a complete lunatic. I don’t start singing in public places. I usually reserve my performances for my wife.
The usual scenario goes something like this. My wife will be watching The Bachelor or a similar program, probably wondering about her questionable taste in men. I unexpectedly walk into the room and smile as I see the two young lovebirds on the screen, gazing into each other’s eyes. I snuggle up close to my wife and start singing whatever pops into my head. How about a little Lionel Richie? “Lady, I’m your knight in shining armor, and I love you. You have made me what I am, and I am yours.” You have to know me to understand that I’m not making a romantic overture.
Sometimes I get a laugh out of her, but just as often I am dismissed hastily. I admit it; I can be annoying. In marriage, you learn to deal with each other’s quirks. (Some might call them annoyances.) This routine is ours, and we often laugh a lot during a typical day.
For four months we have spent a lot of time together. Part of this has to do with us enjoying retirement, but mostly it is a symptom of COVID. I am very seldom depressed as I have so many things to be grateful for. I can count the number of times that I’ve felt down in the last four years on one hand. When I started feeling low at the beginning of the pandemic, it was strange.
Many other people I’ve talked to underwent something similar. When my environment became restrictive, I felt trapped. Many of the things I enjoy doing were suddenly gone. How about going to the gym? Out. Volunteer work? Nope, it’s temporarily suspended. Maybe I’ll socialize with friends? It’s nearly impossible in person. Why don’t I watch some sports? The leagues are all shut down. Should we go out to eat? Nothing was open. I’ve got plenty of time, so why don’t I write something? The creative juices were missing. On top of that, our favorite dog got cancer, and we had to put him down prematurely.
Since you have also lived this experience, I know I’m not telling you anything new. Many other people I talked to have gone through something similar. Some days I’d feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself. How dare I feel sad when so many others are paying the ultimate price?
We all deal with situations differently. As a mostly extroverted person, it was hard for me to rationalize when others told me their lives hadn’t changed much. What??? I’m going crazy. I missed my friends. Facebook, FaceTime, Zoom, and the telephone are better than nothing, but they’re just not the same as sharing a hug, a laugh, or a story in person.
Finally, I snapped out of it. I turned off the television, quit paying attention to the sad news of the virus and violence, and started writing again. I got my mojo back.
Things are still far from ordinary, but I’m adjusting. I walk four miles a day, and that is better than sitting around the house all day.
After four months, my writing critique group is back. That’s when I knew I was my old self again. I was with my friends and colleagues doing what I enjoy. We wore face masks during our meeting as we are all in the higher risk group being a little older, and virus cases are on the rise in our area. After the last session, I was driving home, and I thought of an old song (Reunited) by the duo, Peaches and Herb. In reality, it’s a love song, but I do like the reunited sentiment.
And it feels so good
‘Cause we understood
There’s one perfect fit
And sugar, this one is it
We both are so excited ’cause we’re
I didn’t start singing in the car, but the lyrics popped into my head. I hope you have your mojo back or never lost it in the first place. Perhaps you adjusted better than I did.