With so much time at home these days, I am desperately missing those daily, small but important, interactions with strangers we have been robbed of because of COVID (see article from The Atlantic: The Pandemic Has Erased Entire Categories of Friendship). The coworker who asks you how your weekend was, the restaurant owner you chat with when you pick up your to go order, the grocery store worker who helps you find the five spice powder, the elder living across the street that you always wave to. All of these interactions, as quick as some are, make me feel seen. Because of COVID, these interactions now always have a hint of potential danger to them. I’m always second guessing myself. Is my mask on tightly enough? Am I standing far enough away? COVID has made us distrusting and cautious towards each other when what we probably need more of right now is connection. Maybe that's why I felt so compelled by Alice's shop. She sort of gets to temporarily break down that barrier and experience a bit of human connection. These days, I feel like I experience all of my emotions, a few highs but mostly numb lows, in solitude within the four walls of my apartment. Alice gets to share joy and sadness with people daily.
Why do we send each other flowers? Certainly, part of it is protocol and we do what we're supposed to do. But maybe sometimes it's because flowers can say what we don't know how to say. If only there was a bouquet that says, “Hey, I really miss seeing your face and I hope we can get some food together when this is all over” or “Hey, I’m not ignoring you. I’m just really tired all the time and don’t have energy to respond. Miss you.”
