Waiting for spring, your stuff

Professionals. You have become pros in the art of living under a pandemic.

Well in spite of you, of course, and it’s not always easy, but still.

Asking you in my last column what your tips are for holding out until spring in this very uncertain period, I received an avalanche of emails that gives a good idea of ​​your state of mind. The people who take the time to write emails, rather than vent in the comments of a Facebook publication, are a bit like the descendants of readers who sent letters by post, sticking a stamp. And I respect that, I read them all – unlike comments on FB which I never read – and sometimes it can take me a good day.

You have mourned the wait. You miss a lot of things, but you focus on what you have, in the present. I even have the impression that for some, there are two or three things from the world before that you don’t want to find again. You have become accustomed to a certain slowness. “Father of a family of three children under the age of 10, this is the observation that we still draw every day from this pandemic: we were going too fast, all the time, before”, writes Nicolas.

You walk, sometimes you jog, but god damn you walk. I would say that 90% of the emails I receive tell me about daily walks, regardless of the weather, to maintain physical and mental health. It’s a habit that has probably spread with telework. Many of you rejoice in the bright winter sun and longer days. You ended up creating a routine of your own, just as Louis XIV had created the perfect day for a king by imposing etiquette at the court of Versailles.

The arts and communications count for a lot on this day. Many say they have never read so much, which explains the increase in book sales in Quebec over the past two years.

You discover music and listen to the radio, you watch movies and series, play video games, that’s what you would do anyway in the freezing month of January, but you want to create too. You paint, draw, knit, I even received photos of your works, including that of Laurent, who makes huge colorful masks. Jean-François decided to buy this drum that his mother never wanted to give him. You classify your old photos once and for all or you keep a diary. There is Lucie who, with her friends, plays billiards by FaceTime: “There are 4 of us who have a pool table. We put our cameras in front of the table. We make our teams and the game begins. First team that manages to enter 50 balls. »

Claude, rather left field, gives his four tips for getting through the pandemic: “1) We hate journalists bought by the CAQ and the Trudeau government. 2) We do everything that the two governments prevent us from doing. 3) We take our Conservative Party of Quebec card. 4) We consecrate our camp outside this shitty province. »

He’s the only one in everything I’ve received – and the emails came in for three days – to stand out, and he has every right. We wish him a good move out of this “crappy province”, and thank you for reading us, Claude. But in general, you want quality information, by the newspapers, the radio or the TV, except that you are unanimous in saying that you now skip the news of COVID-19. You no longer let in the darkness of the pandemic as before, you increasingly take a break from what is toxic on social networks, you protect yourself, but without necessarily withdrawing into yourself. You volunteer, you help your neighbors, you call someone every day to see how they are. And when you’re not well, you’re kinder to yourself. “When I’m in pain, I let it out without judging me,” writes Camille, who believes that we are collectively “in the patio door of a new era”. “After that, I take refuge in things that make me feel good, like dressing in pale colors, listening to Harry Potter and eating Chocosquash. »

You relativize this Omicronian period, because you could be in Syria or Yemen. But those with an adventurous soul spend many hours planning a trip that has often been canceled once or twice. What matters is not the destination, it’s the journey, right? Finally, you cook a lot, it’s one of the highlights of the day, it seems, there’s the Hurtubise family who write to me to tell me that they make themed dinners which are also cooking classes. story for children. For example, a Greek supper, which will be an opportunity to locate Greece on a map, to talk about the Greek alphabet, the Olympic Games and philosophy. “I try to better understand what my parents went through: the two great wars, the Spanish flu, confides the grandmother. I console myself, we lack for nothing. The grocery stores work hard, we are spoiled by all the media, the online concerts, we can communicate. Nothing to do with the last century. Then we have the vaccine! You have to be patient. »

The wisest among you have repeated this word: patience. A virtue whose effects we tended to forget in the speed of time before.

Yvan becomes a philosopher: “As I wear it out, I finally integrate better and better the current position of the WHO that I had seen coming, like many other people, since last fall: the pandemic does not s will not be erased in three squirts of vaccine, will have to make the coronavirus almost a way of life in the same way that a diabetic or an HIV carrier must take it into account in his life and in his relationships. »

Finally, there is Christiane, 62, who is fighting cancer, and who sent a strong message to The Press : “Don’t give up. Because it is thanks to you and your colleagues that we want to be able to do nothing. I read you in chemo, while waiting to pass my scan, blood tests, etc. You follow me everywhere. Three docs told me six to nine months no more, I’m starting my 12^and, thanks to you who have accompanied me all this time. A huge thank you and don’t let go, if you knew the good you are doing to us. »

It touched us so much that we sent her a bouquet of flowers. Whoever you are, do like Christiane: don’t give up.