Sylvia's Journal

When my trip to West Africa was postponed, most of us were indeed thinking of temporary postponements, not cancellations. But how quickly things changed. 

Between arriving in DC and leaving everything seemed to be upended – VUCA times indeed: volatile (yes), uncertain (yes), complex (yes) and ambiguous (yes). Our daughters felt we were socially irresponsible to even be away from home, ride the Metro, visit musea. We didn’t think so. They rolled their eyes – baby boomers were not taking the corona virus seriously – we thought we were safe and careful. Sita took her kids out of school – I didn’t see why. Now I do,

We are humbled of course because we didn’t see the Draconian measures coming, but also proud that we raised kids who are more socially responsible than their parents. 

We have friends who overwinter in France who are now imprisoned in their AirBnB. Europe is locked, as much as one can lock an entire continent.  Now our much anticipated trip to Holland to celebrate our 40^thanniversary is hanging by a thread. The hotel manager and I are in contact about whether to cancel or not. He wrote me, “if you don’t know what to do, it’s best not to do anything.”  We will go one week at a time – but even that may be too slow, the landscape seems to change by the day.

I have already canceled our AirBnB and plane trip to Grand Junction where we were to attend the wedding of a dear friend at the end of May. The couple canceled rather than postponed the event. They made a trip to their townhall where there were pronounced husband and wife – no party, no honeymoon. Oh, all those disappointments, or as John Adams wrote in his diary: “Griefs upon griefs! Disappointments upon disappointments. What then? This is a gay, merry world notwithstanding.”