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I want to go back to a time when the concept of social distancing had to do with one’s breath.
I want to go back to a time when a face mask had something to do with Halloween.
I want to go back to a time when I wasn’t afraid of going out to eat.
I want to go back to a time I could get my mail and not have to carry a sanitary wipe.
I want to go back to a time when I wasn’t concerned about which way I had to walk down an aisle at the grocery store.
I want to go back to a time when I wasn’t afraid of working in my yard because there was a chance I may have to meet my neighbor.
I want to go back to a time when I did not have to run away from my neighbor’s pets.
I want to go back to a time when I was more concerned with my weight and what I was going to wear to hide it.
I want to go back to a time I never saw aisles of empty shelves at the grocery store.
I want to go back to a time when I trusted anyone.
I want to go back to a time I didn’t know what Zoom was.
I want to go back to a time when my biggest worry was finding more hair in my sink.
I want to go back to a time when my community’s primary concern was over-population and uncontrolled growth.
I want to go back to a time when beetles and wasps were the only invaders I had to worry about. At least I could see them.
I want to go back to a time when I could hug my grandkids without fear that it could be the last time.
I want to go back to a time when I could hug my daughter and shake my son-in-law’s hand.
I want to go back to a time I was bored watching the news. I just don’t want to care anymore.
I want to go back to a time when I had to fill the gas tank in my car.
I want to go back to a time when I became aggravated because I had blisters walking to the beach.
I want to go back to a time when I loved to laugh just for the purpose of laughing. I want to laugh again.
I want to go back to a time when I shuddered when I saw obscenities painted on rocks by the beach.
I want to go back to a time when I became annoyed by the absurdities of the commercials on television.
I want to go back to a time when my entire week was equated by a Red Sox or Patriot loss.
I want to go back to a time when my biggest worry was if I ran out of underwear. Actually I still worry about that.
I want to go back to a time when I could defend my president because he was caught in a lie.
I want to go back to a time when I felt totally secure anywhere I wanted to go.
I want to go back to a time when I thought I could always protect my family no matter where they were or how far they were away from me.
I want to go back to a time when I don’t have to want to go back to a different time.
Jim Fabiano is a retired teacher and writer living in York.