My Turn: How the coronavirus pandemic has changed my routine

Stay home. Be safe. Save lives. Everyone knows the best way to protect everyone is to stay home. So let me tell you why I went out in mid-March. It was a sunny morning, so I took a mug of coffee and drove to the Babylon docks. Many cars were there, and a lot of people were out early to enjoy the simple pleasure of watching the sparkling bay. I’ve never seen so many boats out as now, when we're forced out of our routines. Parking lots by the bay have replaced cafes for now, too.

After, since I needed milk and juice, I drove to Dairy Barn and forked over Purelled cash from my sanitized, gloved hand to the clerk’s gloved one. Finally, I stopped by the little Greek café for an order of spanakopita to go. Signs in the café warned people not to enter, but to phone ahead for curbside pickup. The waitress came out with the tasty spinach pie, grateful for even this small order. Like others at small businesses in our towns, they are working hard to hang on as best they can. I felt good, doing my bit for the local stores that are the fabric of our villages. We still need to meet, to socialize and gather; it’s part of our human nature.

Shopping in our towns changed seemingly overnight. Parking in town, usually a headache, is easier these days; you can hop out for curbside pickup from cafes, bars, wine-and-cheese shops and bakeries. If you want something healthy in Babylon, head over to Sherry’s, a popular health food store, but keep your safe distance (you know the drill).

If you’re in the mood for something not so healthy — but good for mental wellness — head to one of the bakeries. I could try baking at home, but I assure you that would likely be a waste of time, money and ingredients. (Even the dog turned down my last attempt at homemade cookies.) They don’t want you to enter some of bakeries, but if you stand in the doorway and yell out your order, they’ll gladly oblige, bringing over your treats.

But that was in mid-March. As of mid-May, I was still driving to the beach and the docks, but I’ve stopped going to into town; I'll be back by and by. But not just yet, not now. These are risks to public health that I just don’t want to take, despite the desire for an occasional really good chocolate chip cookie.

The numbers of COVID-19 cases have continued to rise in many towns, including mine. The hospitals are not stretched to the limit, but that doesn’t mean they are back to normal. The curve is flattening, but at a slower pace than the spike jumped, shoving our hospital staffs to their very limits. So it makes sense for me to stay home. Maybe step up the cooking and cleaning — or at least think about it.

Since mid-March, before masks were recommended and so many worlds changed, two of my friends nearly lost their lives to the coronavirus. I haven’t given in to that other contagion, fear, but it’s important to take a reality check, acknowledge what’s been going on. That's why I decided to stop going into town.

People are getting impatient and the weather is improving, making it harder to hunker down. Restlessness is on the rise. Government and public health have oddly intersected, creating many inconveniences. Still, as Spike Lee said, we have to do the right thing.

Yes, we’re missing weddings and graduations and more, and our communities need serious government help. The world has changed — and change is always hard. So just eat, pray, love and keep going. One day at a time. We have to. One day we will manage this dreaded virus, learn how to navigate this new society unfolding in so many strange ways. And we might recall, with some nostalgia, how the word "Corona" didn't conjure thoughts of fear and sickness but was only a neighborhood in Queens, or just another beer.

Rita Berman,

West Islip