I long for the days when I didn’t need to worry about food recalls. I barely recall the time when I wasn’t concerned about them, but I now look for recalls right after my morning coffee. (Maybe I should look before.)
I long for the days when the phone rang and I’d think, “Who’s calling to say hello?” rather than, “Who’s calling to tell me who’s in the hospital?”
I long for the days when people would call and ask, “How are you?” in a light-hearted way, rather than with the tinge of gravity they use now, since my husband’s cancer diagnosis of last year.
I long for the days when I would pick up the phone and instinctively answer it, even if I didn’t recognize the number, rather than letting it go to voicemail—due to so many spam and scam calls. It seems so phony (phone-y?) but necessary these days.
I long for the days when a “positive test” meant a positive pregnancy test, not a positive flu or COVID test.
I long for the days when “pet” meant a dog or cat, not my husband’s latest PET scan.
I long for the simplicity of I Love Lucy, when problems were neatly and completely resolved in 30 minutes.
I long for a day when I can walk outside—even with long sleeves, a wide-brimmed hat, and sunscreen—without thinking, in the back of my mind, about a skin cancer recurrence.
I long for a day when people count their blessings and not their carbs.
And that’s the long and the short of it.
R. Lynn Barnett
Alpharetta, Georgia