In the words of the great philosophers of the 1980’s, the Go-go’s, “Vacation, all I ever wanted.  Vacation, had to get away...” Actually, I didn’t think I needed a vacation and felt that I had managed the first five months of sheltering in place with reasonable equanimity.

My husband and I live on the 28th floor of a large NYC apartment building, and from the early days of Coronavirus, being in a confined space of an elevator was of grave concern to us.  We didn’t take any chances, self-quarantined in our apartment, and ventured out only once every three weeks for my treatments.  Unlike many,  staying at home was the only sacrifice we had to make.  Of course, I missed not seeing my family and friends, and the shut down of the gym in our building was a nuisance for my husband. In the scheme of things, however, these were minor inconveniences.  We were lucky. My volunteer work on the SHARE’s TalkMets helpline continued without interruption. Even though in-person events had been cancelled, virtual classes and concerts replaced them quite adequately.  I never thought that I had suffered from cabin fever or zoom fatigue until the day we stepped foot on Fire Island.

This was my first time visiting this lovely pastoral barrier island off the southern shore of Long Island.  Although I have lived in the New York tristate area for over 40 years, I had never been to this island only 60 miles away.  Had it not been for the pandemic and the travel restrictions I would likely not have gotten around to seeing it.  Fire Island is 32 miles long and on average about quarter mile wide.  This is truly a magical place where the deer are as abundant and ubiquitous as the squirrels in Central Park.  It has no cars, and in some places asphalt roads are replaced by boardwalks or sandy paths.  There are 17 communities on the island ranging from tiny hamlets of just a few houses to a couple of little towns.

My family and our close friends have a long standing tradition of  spending a few days of the summer on the shore together. Up until this year our annual destination had always been Cape May, New Jersey. This summer was different and we almost decided to forgo our beach vacation but as fate would have it, we had our vacation after all.  We were lucky to find a rental in Dunewood, a small village on Fire Island, for one week in August. So on August 15th the newly formed pandemic pod of 6 set off on a ferry for the island. This was the first time in almost half a year any of us ventured more than a few miles from our homes and were reasonably apprehensive. Would we encounter unmasked hordes of sun bathers on the beaches? We were pleasantly surprised when on the short walk from the dock to our house we met but a few people. Everyone was wearing a mask but unfortunately it was not the norm on the island.  Wearing masks and social distancing are mandated, but in practice each each town has its own vibe and  attitude toward these rules.

We assessed the situation and did not stray far from the house, enjoyed beautiful weather and views, took walks always wearing masks, went out to eat occasionally but more often ordered in or barbecued. I understood clearly how much I had missed being together with others, talking, laughing, and just enjoying their company. Over the course of the week, there was a noticeable transformation in me and my friends. We became less sedate, happier and more relaxed.  It turns out, I underestimated how difficult this year has been on all of us, even those who were seemingly unaffected by it. I also realized how fortunate I am that my health and finances allowed me to take this vacation.