Stuck Inside: Quaran-dreaming of My Home

#PostcardsfromtheWorld. Search that hashtag and you’ll find snaps from some of the most exotic, gorgeous, drool-worthy locations on the globe. Sites like Travel + Leisure have been letting us go on virtual vacations for weeks now, knowing that no one is going on a real life vacation any time soon. We all sit inside, scrolling from one incredible photo to the next, dreaming of the day we get to visit Phuket, Rome, Belize, Patagonia, Madrid, South Africa or Palm Springs. All we want is OUT! Out of our current situation. Out of our houses. Away from the coronavirus and the news and the deaths and destruction.

I am incredibly lucky to have visited some of the dreamiest places on Earth.

Paris ✓

Rome ✓

Maui ✓

Lisbon ✓

Costa Rica ✓

London ✓

Carribean islands ✓

Marrakech ✓

Those are just a few of the places I’ve visited. I am grateful for each of these experiences and will treasure the memories forever. I dream of visiting the Maldives at some point in the future and want to visit South Africa and Brazil, where some of my best friends grew up.

But, my current dream isn’t of any of those places. While we’re all sheltering at home, wearing masks in public spaces, and social distancing, I dream of my adopted hometown, Washington, DC.

I dream of the time when I can freely walk around with my children. I relish the moment when I no longer need to fear the person behind me in the grocery store, worried that they might be an asymptomatic virus carrier. My postcards are of reopened museums, playgrounds, libraries, and swimming pools where friends and families gather to soak up all that Washington, DC has to offer. I dream of my sister and her family coming to visit, going to a Washington Nationals game and not worrying about whether some random person has decided to risk the health of everyone around them. I want the tourists and the interns; the visitors from all over who have planned trips to visit the capital of the United States. They pack the sidewalks, taking photos and consulting maps (usually on their phones, but occasionally you see the one who still wants that paper map in their hand). I dream of open restaurants, rooftops, and terraces.

I wish for the hot, humid summer days and the sultry, sweaty summer nights. I wish for the freedom that comes with summer, even when you have to work. A time when everyone is a little more relaxed, a little less worried and a little happier. I yearn for the haze that shimmers in the air, blurring the skyline and making even the grimiest buildings glitter like fool’s gold. The outdoor movies that pop up all over the city, the Friday jazz concerts at the National Gallery’s Sculpture Garden, kids playing and eating ice cream, and adults playing and having “ adult drinks” (in my house they’re called mommy-daddy drinks).

Of course I’ve been dreaming of far away places and vacations we planned that had to be scrapped. Canceled plans, canceled summer camps, canceled school. The uncertainty of the future makes us all dream of places far removed from this mess. We all wonder whether this “new normal” will become our actual normal, at least for a few years. But, in between worries and daydreaming, my persistent dream is of home, of wandering the streets of Washington, DC without a mask, without major concern for my health, and with a smile on my face.