Day 33

The "New" Front Door

When I was little, my parents warned me, “Never open the door to strangers.” Now, the front door is my new best friend!

Friends drop off groceries, jam, hot home-baked goods, and flowers. Amazon delivers toilet paper, Diet Coke, and still more groceries. My pharmacist delivers too — not just prescriptions but matzo for Passover. She’s a true life — and holiday — saver.

A dear friend of ours in Gardenville, Nevada drops off hams and pineapples to his neighbors. This somehow strikes me as just the sweetest thing of all. Even vegan Handsome Hubby wishes we were on our friend’s appointed rounds just to smile and wave at George from the front door stoop. (And no, George, do NOT get in the car and drive to Berkeley when Judy reads this to you. Do NOT.)

Once when I was a little girl in Tucson, Arizona, I did open the front door to a stranger. The man did not reply to my hello. Instead, he handed me a card, indicating he was deaf and something else. I don’t recall what. He did absolutely nothing menacing. Yet, I was terrified and ran crying for my mother. I hadn’t thought of that incident in ages. How terrible I must have made him feel.

Even as adults we’re traditionally cautious about opening the door to strangers. Apartment buildings have doormen and buzzers. Homes have security systems.

But today —from a correct social distance —I greet delivery people like long lost relatives, the mailman like my best friend from college who I haven’t seen in decades, and … Well, you get the idea.

Yes, from a world of worry and “stranger danger,” to this time of sheltering-in-place, I know that the word “welcome” on my front door has never before conveyed a more sincerely felt message.

I’m going to close with a photo. I understand there’s a celebration honoring siblings. Apparently, but understandably, not knowing about it, I missed it. National Siblings Day was April 10. Still, although late for the party, I’d like to share this photo of my big brother, Neil Gilbert Galatz and myself. Twenty-one years older than I, Gil died in 2013. He was my hero and I miss him every single day. ‘Nuff said.



And so goes Day 33. Hugs to you all. Hope you having a good weekend. Hang in there. We’ll get through this.

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