Nine months ago, Peter and I gave a party to celebrate his 90th birthday. We didn’t know then what “Covid-19” was all about, although one couple gave us a hint when they declined our invitation because of the just-beginning pandemic. I remember we suggested, via signage, that people not hug, but we had no clue what was coming at us. Since then, many friends have told us that Peter’s 90th was the last party they attended this year.
In the warmer weather, we often gathered in small groups at a distance in the garden behind our building. But now it’s winter and it’s New England, a bad combination for anything outdoors not related to skiing.
So when we found out that a lovely young(er) woman on our hall had accepted a job in Florida, we needed to find a winter way to celebrate her. The day we chose turned out to be cold and windy, but six of us carried folding chairs out into the parking area, set them up in a socially-distanced circle, and celebrated Amy. After she explained her exciting new job, each person read a short poem written in her honor. There was no food or drink, but we managed to last an hour before six freezing people picked up their folding chairs and the party was over.
We all had a great time.