When Sophie returns to the car after going to her physiotherapy appointment, she suggests we have lunch together, instead of driving straight home. A few minutes later, we’re sanitising our hands at the entrance to the shopping centre. Soon we’re sitting at a table in the sparsely populated food court with lattes and generous bowls of noodles in front of us.
Sophie stretches her right arm across the table toward me. She has a brace embedded with steel rods around her wrist.
”Do many baristas get carpal tunnel syndrome?” I ask.
My daughter nods. “It goes with the job.”
We wrap our noodles around our forks and eat in silence for a minute or two. I look at the empty tables around us and wonder if the local Covid-19 case has frightened people away.
My thoughts are interrupted when I see two young men stepping towards each other. They shake hands. My hand freezes, noodles halfway to my lips, as I observe this socially unacceptable action. Am I surprised, shocked, sad? No one shakes hands anymore. I decide I understand.
A few weeks ago, as I emerged from our home, intending to walk to the village hairdresser, a neighbour caught sight of me. She strode across the road, saying, “I know we spoke to each other a lot during the bushfires, but I never introduced myself properly.” And then stretching out her hand, she said, “I’m Dani.”
A split-second pause: indecision, hesitation. And then my hand moved. “I’m Sue,” I smiled as I soaked up the touch of my neighbour’s warm skin.
Moments later, as I resumed my walk, I wondered if I’d also soaked up a handful of germs. What if I had the virus on my fingers? What if I spread it, gave it to the hairdresser? My hand throbbed red and hot until I arrived at the salon and saw the guilt-removing sanitiser waiting for me on a table just outside the door.
”I hope your brace helps with the pain,” I say, turning my eyes back to Sophie. “What did the physiotherapist say? Are you allowed to keep making coffee?”
”I have to.” Sophie grins. “Everyone will complain if they can’t have their coffee.”
We enjoy our freshly brewed coffee, precious time with a daughter, the guilty pleasure of hands clasped together.
We search out the delights in our pandemic days. And we soak them up.
One of my delights, even more during these times, is reading your blog :)))
Glad to hear that you are still able to search for sunny experiences. Keep on doing that and keep on reminding us how wonderful little heartwarming experiences can be, when we stop and smell the roses.
Luana,
Thank you for being such a faithful reader of my blog. One of my delights is reading your comments. I love chatting with you about the experiences we’re sharing even though we are on opposite sides of the world!