1/21
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| The Armory staging area |
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| at the armory |
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| vaccinated |
I won’t believe I am actually getting my vaccination until I get there and it happens. It seemed so random when the appointment opened up. I get up very early to get to the site by 7:45 AM. I arrive at the 168th Street Armory, one of the premier indoor track and field facilities in the country, to find it has been converted into a massive vaccination operation. A team of volunteers makes every step easy. They’ve all been clearly trained to be warm, friendly and welcoming to relieve any anxieties there may be about the vaccine. I look at the banners of various schools compete here, the banked track, remember seeing my son compete here years ago. And just like that, after three stations, I get my shot and then sit to wait for my next appointment that you use have before leaving. As other friends my age have not been able to get in and an older couple has had their appointment canceled because they have “run out,” I feel lucky. The lack of coordinated comprehensive planning continues to make gaining control over this virus an uphill struggle even as more virulent strains are emerging.
By midday, my arm is stiff and sore. And by nightfall, I am shivering with chills and a sick headache that hurts when I cough, Nothing to do but go to bed….
1/22
….where I stay until after noon the next day. By late afternoon, I feel tired and weak but still meet a friend for an outdoor dinner at the Gate. And even though I called hours in advance, we still can’t get a heated table. I order chicken pot pie as comfort food and in an hour, we’re gone. Back home, bed still looks like where I want to be , but there’s open mic hosting in between .
1/23
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| whose was this? |
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| blue jay |
It’s cold farmer’s market today. ….a stranded child's play castle....and later a walk with family through Harlem…in Morningside Park, I see a blue jay....
1/24
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| Ozone Park Churc |
Up early to travel to Ozone Park where the congregation wants to thank me for my service with them. Somehow, they are managing to worship live and in person. It’s a long ride to Ozone Park and then a long cold walk from the subway to the church. When I arrive, it’s so hard to see with my glasses steamed over. But what I do see is moving. Somehow, well with the assistance of a skilled administrative commission, the church has moved forward during the pandemic. A new renter had brought in enough income (and volunteer work) to have the place shining clean. The basement has been thoroughly emptied of old stored items and feels open and clean. Most importantly, the cage that had bene installed around the organ, something I’d never seen before, has bene removed. It was to me clearly a symbol of anxiety, for and mistrust of others, a closed in protective spirit. The cage is gone. And I can feel a renewed spirit of openness in the congregation. The division I felt before is not visible. There are even a few children in Sunday school. And a feeling of hope. They have worked hard for this. Of course, the two old stalwarts of the congregation died of covid. But others have stepped up and taken on tasks they would not have before. It’s a unique congregation with many of its members from the South Asian Indian community of the West Indies. They give me a stole as a gift, of Guatemalan cloth. Fitting because of my work there. It has warmed my heart on a cold day to see that a congregation has actually moved forward during the pandemic.
