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At the beginning of stay-at-home pandemic times, my neighbors had a gathering at their pool, including (grand?) kids. That they were gathering gave me a lot of anxiety. Sometimes I even wondered if the breeze was blowing virus over to me as I sat in my back yard.
On many weekends, these gatherings happened. The kids played Marco Polo *for hours.*
Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo.
Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo. Marco. Polo.
Marco. Marco. Marco. Polo. Marco. Marco. Marco! MARCO! Polo.
Even with music lightly playing on my laptop, it was impossible not to hear every call, and each one was a reminder that they were all gathering together.
But at some point, I relaxed into this. I assume/hope they're all part of each other's COVID bubbles, and thus were safely gathering and having fun. And I started to look forward to working while they played, kind of like the background noise at a coffee shop or co-working space.
It's been weeks, maybe months—what is time any more?—since I've heard them out there. But they're back today. Marco. Polo. Marco. Marco. Marco! Polo.
But they're back today, and it's so nice to have that joyful community gathering as background noise.
They'll probably still come over and play once this is all over. (They may have before this, and I just never noticed!) But any time I hear "Marco" or "Polo," it'll definitely remind me of this time, and the anxiety, and the comfort that comes from just noticing small things.
