I walked around the lake just now and felt sad. I should be walking off too much food from the memorial day cookout, listening to the buzz of conversation all around me. Reconnecting with friends, making new friends, swimming in the lake, even though it's still a little cold for me, I'm a wuss.
I'm grateful for my community here, the socially distanced gatherings, my health, my ability to function because my day job is online, the numerous kindnesses I see every day here.
I understand the need for normalcy to return, but I know it can't right now, I'll wear my mask when I go out among groups of people. I'll keep my distance. I'll hope that next May, we can gather again, and that everyone here makes it to that celebration. It may be two years from now before we can.
On this day where we remember the sacrifices so many have made, part of me knows that I have it so good here, even now. There's another part of me that misses the taste of the burgers, the conversations, the swimming, the ordinary things. The things that turn out to be what make this life so precious.
I know that's unusually somber for me, so, to compensate, here's a photo of upwards of 20 turtles on a tree in the lake, taken on the walk. Sorry for the quality of the picture, but if I'd gotten any closer with my phone, there would have been far fewer turtles in the picture.