… Moments so dear. Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure? Measure a year. “Seasons of Love” – Rent

One year ago, do you know where you were? Do you recall who sat next to you when the NBA announced that it cancelled its remaining season? Do you recall who told you March Madness was Players Only? Or when you heard that this traditional tournament was cancelled altogether?

One year ago, what were you doing? What was the last movie you saw in a movie theatre? What was your last live entertainment experience? Where was the last restaurant you visited? What were the final classes or activities you enjoyed before doors where locked?

One year ago, did you pack up the desk at your office and initiate work from your “home office”? Did you have a college student home on Spring Break, learn he — or she — would not be returning to campus? Did you have a child in public school begin the indefinite learning from home education experience? Did you go to the grocery store and take a photo of the empty toilet paper aisle?

One year ago, had you ever heard of Zoom?

It’s been quite a year. So much has changed since Friday, March the 13, 2020 … the day we truly discovered that this COVID-19 Pandemic thing that we’d heard about happening in China was a little bit more significant than something taking place on the other side of the globe. It’s been a year since the term “Social Distancing” was first uttered. It’s been a year since we started wearing masks. It’s been a year since the run on toilet paper and hand sanitizer sent our country into a full-scale panic mode.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes ago would you have anticipated the loss, the separation, or the change in our country, our activities, our habits and our relationships? Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes ago would you have had the same priorities that you have today? Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes ago — if you had known the toll the COVID-19 pandemic would take on you personally, is there anything you might have chosen to do differently … something you neglected, put off or failed to do before March 13, 2020 changed the way we lived?

I wear a mask everywhere now. I have assorted, stylish masks with filters. A friend of mine knows someone who makes them, and I’ve ordered a few custom ones. Since I’m back out in the workforce full time now, I prefer to wear a new one daily. It’s not fashion, really. It’s the practicality of something clean on my face each day. (Okay, it’s a little bit fashion/style-driven.) A year ago, one mask was going to be all I needed. I mean, how long could this pandemic thing really last? A couple weeks? Surely we’d be back to normal by summer?

By the time the kids when back to school?

By the Holidays.

Who could have foretold that we would still be sitting, separated by a minimum of six feet and wearing a mask, five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes later?

Um … well … here we are.

So, I ask you, what’s changed? Who have you lost? What have you lost? What do you miss most? How are you handling it? For people I know who could not bury or attend funerals for those stricken by this pandemic, my heart bleeds for you. For people whose loved ones were sick, but they couldn’t visit them in their hospital room and hold their hands as they passed on to their afterlife, my thoughts are with you. For young people who can’t go to school or enjoy activities that nurture and help shape them as they grow up, I am sorry you are missing out on these formative experiences. Too many people’s lives, careers, activities, families and day-to-day existence have been negatively impacted during these past 365 days. Nothing will ever erase that fact.

Each day arrives in a package. It’s wrapped up and tied with a ribbon. We do not know what to expect as we open it. But, today, after five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, we should at least know to find ways and time to appreciate the package as well as the people, activities and experiences that we care most about.

Since March 13, 2020, I personally have grown closer to the people most important to me. I have weekly FaceTime Happy Hours with a friend who I hadn’t honestly seen much of “before.” Our busy schedules and the distance between our homes got in the way of regular get togethers. That’s changed. We see each other weekly — Thursdays at 5:01pm — and somehow never seem to run out of topics. Meanwhile, my brother and I are doing a “book group” — well it’s not really a group since it’s just the two of us — but you get it. He lives five hours from me, so he’s not in my “bubble.” We FaceTime and discuss each section. I see his face on my iPhone, since we haven’t met face to face since October.

Over the past five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes, I’ve determined what’s most important to me — and who is most important. And I’ve become more deliberate in making sure I stay connected to them. In many ways, these connections are richer. I appreciate our moments. I intentionally keep those people and the activities that truly matter to me more top of mind. And I’ve let go of chasing relationships, situations, habits, activities and situations that truly don’t serve me.

Why did it take a global pandemic and five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes of separation to teach me to treasure the people, the places, the projects and the experiences that mean the most? I don’t know.

But, during the past five hundred, twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes I’ve slowed down. I’ve added daily yoga and meditation to my life. I’ve attended five virtual Josh Groban concerts — what an amazing treat — and even shared one concert — virtually of course — with my brother and sis-in-law during Valentines Day. I’ve added activities into my life that I forgot how much I enjoyed — like changing the American Girl dolls into new outfits each month, doing puzzles, and spending afternoons with a cup of tea and a good book. I knit up a storm — gifting handmade items to people I care for. And, I’ve discovered the joys of giving myself permission to binge TV shows under cozy blankets on cold winter nights and enjoy a glass of wine while I do so.

I’m a restless spirit. Slowing down doesn’t come naturally. But loving the people dearest to me,. making the most of our time and not putting off ’til tomorrow what I can do today, that resonates with me.

Things are different five hundred, twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes later. Our world is different. I’m different. I wish it hadn’t taken a pandemic to slow our world down enough to enjoy smelling the roses. But it’s Spring. We have a vaccine. We’re getting our lives back. I know there have been devastating losses. We can’t forget them. But I believe they would want us to learn from the past year and look forward with hope.

And as we do, five hundred, twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes later, I wonder what will be different in how we return to “normal.” I wonder what we’ll choose differently after a year “socially distant.”

How will you measure the next five hundred, twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes?

My circle is smaller. But I see a few friends in outside locations, dining in “bubbles” or sitting at the assigned socially distant booths.