It’s over now, right?

The cloudy conclusions of the COVID-19 pandemic

This week, following a vote by Congress, President Biden ended the U.S. national emergency to respond to the pandemic weeks earlier than anticipated. Media outlets covered it, but none of the websites I read that day led with the story. I wonder how many Americans knew the national emergency to respond was still in place.

It’s been more than three years since the pandemic and shutdowns began. Despite the stops and starts and many false finish lines, many of us reached the end of … something … a long time ago, but it was nothing like a clear finish line that we seemed to think it would be, once upon a time in 2020 when we thought everything would shut down for three weeks to “flatten the curve,” then we’d move forward.

For me, the pandemic’s “end” went more like this: At some point around May 2022, probably in the middle of a regular day after the sun rose and coffee brewed and I began work at my now-permanent home office, I thought, “This is it! The ‘new normal’ everyone spoke about for so long is here. This is about as close to pre-2020 as it might ever get. I better get on board!” 

I’m writing this now because when I saw the U.S. national emergency to respond to the pandemic ended, it felt significant, even if the public at large went about life in the “new normal” a while ago. I want to document a piece of the pandemic’s end that is clear, because the rest of it wasn’t.

Hiking to my favorite heart rock in the Sandia Mountains one year after pandemic shutdown began

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One year after Travis and I started working from home due to the pandemic, we spent a blue-sky morning hiking with our dogs in the Sandia Mountains. Later on Instagram I shared snapshots from that sunny day and wrote, “We hiked to my favorite heart in Albuquerque. I’m grateful for this crew because we got through this crazy pandemic year together.”

Just five days before that March 2021 hike, I received my first dose of the COVID-19 vaccine and everything felt sort of like a grand symphonic crescendo. I took a selfie in my car while holding my vaccine card and shared on Instagram that getting a shot in a drive-thru clinic “felt like everything … the vaccine is hope in a vial.” That week felt to me like a critical point in the pandemic and some sort of finish line. I was right and wrong. Sure, that week was a crescendo, but it wasn’t a finale. The Delta variant hadn’t even emerged yet, let alone Omicron, and off-and-on mask mandates in New Mexico, where I live, lasted nearly a year longer.

Obligatory vaccine selfie following my first shot in March 2021

Perhaps I was right that the year point was important for some reason, as anniversaries often are, but I was wrong that we’d reached a finish line. Weren’t we all wrong in 2021? Weren’t we all wrong over, and over, and over as we made guesses as to when office jobs would return in person, all of the places we loved most would be open, venues would welcome guests at full capacity, service jobs would be fully staffed, young children would have a vaccine of their own, international travel would feel easy again, hospitals would stop facing COVID-19 surges, and we could throw masks away for good? The list goes on and on.

When 2022 arrived, the Omicron virus was surging across the nation. Once the case levels dropped again, things progressively started to become easier. By the end of March last year, all state-wide mask mandates ended. Travel in the U.S. significantly increased and formerly-crowded events and venues were crowded again. It was nice even though there were things that continued to feel off, or strange - things that began in 2020 and spread into the following two years. Weddings, celebrations, funerals and observances were delayed for months, a year or more, or never happened. Staffing was in short supply in many industries. The nation faced the “Great Resignation.” Some of us felt pressure to performatively wear masks in certain spaces long after we’d received the vaccine and boosters and mandates dropped. There was often this question in the back of my mind: “Am I doing the right thing?”

Some things that were absent during the pandemic never returned. My friend group changed and got smaller. There are still people I see in town for the first time in years when we used to run into each other every few weeks or months. I didn’t get to visit my grandma for 2.5 years. It took until early 2023 for that to happen.

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Something that interests me as I look back is how easy it was for me to slip back into life that felt more like 2019 than 2020. Was that how it was for you, too? I thought I would notice it more. I was determined to notice it more. Sometimes, I did.

I felt simple joy during the summer of 2021 when Travis and I started doing things that I missed for so long. The first time we went back to a movie theater, I carried our popcorn and had a giant, goofy smile on my face as we settled into our seats. That summer we also went to water parks and started participating in races - with other people! - again.

The first time we went to a baseball game, the first batter hit a home run and my eyes teared up because it felt amazing to be in a happy crowd. I got emotional again later in the game when “Sweet Caroline” played loudly in the field. 

“Good times never seemed so good -

I've been inclined

To believe they never would”

Isotopes Ball Park, May 2021

I remember waiting to board an airplane and the person behind me said this was her first time flying in more than a year and she looked amazed at everything from the jet bridge to the mini water bottles and little packets of sanitizer the flight attendants gave us. 

Other times, I forgot to notice that I was experiencing a moment I’d craved during months of stay-at-home orders. In fact, I felt a bit guilty during a weekend trip to Durango, Colorado, in the summer of 2021 when I purchased an iced coffee, sat at a cute outside cafe table and listened to a live musician singing acoustic covers by bands like Dave Matthews. It had been such a long time since live music appeared in front of me on a touristy sidewalk. I momentarily forgot that I was lucky because the situation felt natural and easy, and I had to remind myself that connection with strangers and artists like this isn’t guaranteed whether due to a pandemic or other life/world changes.

When I attend live events now, a performing artist might mention the pandemic, but sometimes they don’t always say the words “pandemic” or “COVID-19.” Rather, they acknowledge it’s been a long time since they’ve been in a particular city, refer to “that crazy time” when they didn’t know if they’d tour again, and say they are grateful we are together again. People don’t always like to say the words directly related to the times they want to move far away from.

Iced coffee and live music in Durango, Colorado, July 2021

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Even after I told myself we’d collectively reached the “new normal” in 2022, I wasn’t rushing to book an international trip or purchase several tickets to concerts that would be held in giant venues. Some of my favorite artists still hadn’t started touring again. 

As part of the “new normal” masks still came and went. I was required to wear one when I started working some days in the office last July because COVID-19 levels in Albuquerque were high at the time. By then, we were all pretty accustomed to the stops and starts of the pandemic - the excitements and disappointments. Yes, I felt we’d reached a “new normal,” and yet - in one silly example - I was still waiting to see Hamilton with tickets purchased before the shutdown. Just a week or two before we were supposed to see it in early 2022, several of the cast members got COVID and Albuquerque performances were delayed an additional 16 months. Travis and I had to laugh because what else could we do? Referring to lyrics in one of the Hamilton songs, Travis joked we’d have to - again - “wait for it, wait for it, wait for it.”

* * * * *

The beginning of the pandemic feels like yesterday and 10 years ago at the same time. The ending of the pandemic will always seem blurry to me. I don’t remember exactly when airlines, movie theaters, baseball fields and entertainment venues took down their “welcome back” signs and commercials. I don’t exactly remember when I stopped having to show my vaccine card in certain places to gain entry, but my guess it was in Oakland, California, in July 2022.

Although there is fuzziness, the pandemic’s end feels real now, at least socially, and has for a while even though COVID-19 is here to stay. Last September, even though we could predict the virus cases would continue to rise and fall, President Biden said the pandemic was over, even as his administration continued to ask for funds to fight against the virus, hundreds of people were still dying of COVID-19 every day, and the U.S. national emergency to respond to COVID-19 hadn’t ended. Depending on perspective, Biden’s statement was realistic or comical, and tracked socially either way. The public, for the most part, had seemingly moved on. Then, roughly six months later in March, the three-year point since America’s shutdown came and went. While the third anniversary was noted in the media, news coverage and people had been speaking about the pandemic in past tense for a while by then. State and local COVID-19 data gathering has dropped significantly. John Hopkins stopped reporting COVID-19 data March 10 of this year; New York Times stopped collecting and posting daily data as of March 23 and now publishes CDC data weekly.

I’m not sure what moving beyond the pandemic means months and years from now, but I assume it looks a lot like life does now - we will socially separate from the pandemic and focus on current, pressing issues. I wish I could say that surviving a pandemic made Americans collectively better, but it seems this country’s progress is sputtering at best in many ways. Kids’ reading and math skills are down, Teens are experiencing terribly high levels of depression and crisis. Some supply chain issues continue and in addition to the pandemic, those issues have been exacerbated due to the war in Ukraine. Gun-related deaths are increasing, and guns became the leading cause of death for children in the U.S. Life expectancy dropped in the United States. These are just a few of the issues heightened during the pandemic.

* * * * *

I write this now because I don’t want to forget that there was a time when everything felt upside down. There was a time when the world experienced something that affected every single person, for better or for worse, and I’d argue mostly for worse. While I don’t want to dwell on the pandemic and I’ve stopped blaming it for every unfortunate circumstance,*** its ripple effect into our lives will be long lasting, especially in terms of politics and mental health.

I think it’s important to remember and recognize how the pandemic changed us, and continues to linger in many ways that we may not have to think about often. Our world has been forever altered in one way or another as we keep on keeping on.

* * * * *

*** The phrase, “It’s cuz of COVID,” came out of my mouth at least once a day for years whenever something unfortunate or inconvenient happened. Occasionally, I’m sure it was said in a positive way such as when I told people that the best time to see holiday lights at the Albuquerque botanic gardens was during the pandemic because crowds were limited. Either way, I’m glad I don’t have to say, “It’s cuz of COVID,” very often anymore.