OUR BEAUTIFUL BEFORE
A month, a morning, a moment—how long does time take to divide? How long does it take before to become memory and after reality?
My man, Dan, and I were in sunny Spain in February 2020 when a virus began to creep across Europe. Upon our return to the U.S., states were closing to prevent the spread of Covid-19. Suddenly we never left the house except for neighborhood walks. We ordered food, medicine, everything online. The pandemic severed time in two. Daily we counted ourselves fortunate, for many who could not isolate experienced terrible hardship, illness, death. Refrigerator trucks filled the parking lot of our local funeral home to handle the overflow of bodies. It was a time of dying. Were we next?
Somehow, people found hope. Our neighborhood hung hearts made from strings of light on their doors. At sunset all over the world, people went to their windows to bang pots or sing as if to say: we are in here and still alive. How about you? Cities and towns rang with this music. Still, I longed for before, when we lived maskless and free from fear. Would life always be like this?
After a year, a miracle: vaccinations. In the summer of ‘21 we spent three glorious weeks in Paris, wearing laminated CDC vaccination cards on lanyards around our necks. Without this proof of vaccination, a waiter would not serve us a latte, much less a plate of steak frites. Yet life had not returned to before. Taking Covid tests and getting the latest vaccination are integral parts of our lives. I grieve those I lost in that year of isolation. How fragile life feels and how precious. Now small pleasures—like meeting friends at a coffee shop—flood me with joy.
Thank you to all the talented poets and writers who contributed their own versions of “Before & After” to the June issue. We hope you will enjoy their work.
The theme for our next issue is “On the Road,” and we will be open for submissions until August 1, 2024. For creative nonfiction, I encourage short travel narratives. We look forward to reading your work.
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Ellen Herbert is a creative nonfiction editor at Halfway Down the Stairs.
© 2024, Ellen Herbert
Halfway Down the Stairs 