For people in their seventies like me, some confinement has already lasted for six months.  Fatigue takes its toll, and complacency attempts to set in.  The coronavirus knows how to wait and still kills one thousand people in the US every day.

 Some of us have begun to stick our necks out of our carapaces. We are peeking outside and searching for a way to cheer our lives.  It isn’t easy. Everyone must first own that any contact will increase their risk of exposure.  But for our mental health’s sake, we can now and then venture out if we remain mindful of the dangers.   There are tools to minimize the risks: whenever possible, do your social activity in an open space, keep at least six feet from others, wear a mask and make sure the other guests also put them on, never touch your face without washing your hands. Limit the gathering to ten people or less. If the reunion includes eating some food together, keep your distance at the table and share no plates or silverware.  Limit the mask-less exposure to fifteen minutes or less.  Any enjoyable discussion over dinner should be postponed until the repast is over.  After each social gathering, gurgle with mouthwash for 30 seconds and spray the same solution in each nostril twice.  

If your grandchildren are attending the reunion, you must fight the temptation of kissing or hugging them. Tell their parents to warn them to stay away from you.  It is terrible, but we must stay safe. The vaccine will most likely be available in the next three or four months.  This nightmare will soon be over.