This pandemic has hit me for a loop. Usually an active, cheerful human being, my regular outlets for fun and relaxation have eluded me. My social skills have eroded to a minimum skill set of being able to look decent for a Zoom meeting, and, even at that, the illusion is to look presentable from the waist up! Even my work life is secluded, most often either working from home in my pajamas or singularly sitting in my office vastly socially distant from others.

I can’t help but feel nostalgic for the olden days. Going to the movies was a favorite pass time, always accompanied by a large bucket of popcorn doused in fake butter. When the lights went down and the movie came on the screen, it was true escapism in bold, bright colors. Many of the movies that would have been shown on the big screen have become available to us on our televisions through various apps, but they do not rise to the level of diversion served by actually going to a movie theater.

Sunday church services have also changed dramatically. Now, Hubby and I sit in a church pew separated from our neighboring church attendees. We greet each other with a wave from afar because the usual hugs and handshakes have been forbidden. They used to lift my spirits and confirm the existence of a similarly inclined community. I never realized how much those hugs and handshakes meant to me until they were gone. The most emotionally stirring part of the church service has always been the singing, especially those hymns that I knew by heart, thus not needing to dig out my glasses to read the tiny notes in the hymnal. I want to sing Amazing Grace with emotion, but I am not allowed to sing with gusto anymore. While the words and the tune are the same, the effect is very different when asked to minimize spittle by singing through an itchy, sound-blocking mask.

Perhaps the one activity I miss the most is going to the casinos. Never an extravagant gambler, I have been known to throw a few twenties at a slot machine. When my mom and brother were alive, we would take the bus trip to Mohegan Sun. It had always been difficult to find activities that my brother, who was multiply disabled, could enjoy. He loved riding on the big bus, often squirreling away in the back seat. Once at the casino, we would enjoy the amazing buffet with our free meal ticket, and then use our $20 voucher to play the slot machines. (My mother, never the spendthrift, would use her voucher to put $20 in her pocket.) In addition to his many physical disabilities, my brother also developed schizophrenia and always thought aliens from outer space would scoop him up and take him to their planet. In tribute to this, his favorite slot machine was “Spaced Invaders”, and he would sit for hours, betting five cents per game, watching with glee as the aliens beamed residents of a farm up into their spaceships. Sentimentally, this has become a favorite game of mine, also. It is delightful to play because intermittently on a regular basis free spins are awarded, and I always like something for “nothing”! This is the type of game I could play for hours and never really lose much money. (My idea of success is being able to have fun playing with a minimal amount of expenditure.)

My dreams are simple. I am looking forward to the decline of the epidemic to enjoy a good movie at the theater. I am looking forward to walking around mask-free, and being able to once again sing at the top of my lungs and hug people at church. Ironically, I am most looking forward to going to a casino to play the slot machines; not to win money, but just to play, just to watch those aliens hovering in their little space ships, just like they did so many years ago when my brother was alive to play. Some things never change, pandemic or not.