By David Fortier

Come Sunday morning, I will have had my 6th test for Covid.  

There have been several exposures at school, and then the most recent one, where people in my immediate circle met with friends who only found out after the fact that they had been exposed at Christmastime. 

So, I have found myself waiting downtown in the lines at the Community Health Center testing site, sometimes for 25 minutes, other times over three hours. And lucky, fingers crossed, no Covid. 

But Sunday is Sunday, and if I play my cards right, it is a day to slow down, recount the days leading up to it and to muse about the week ahead.  

Bright spots! 

This time around, on New Year’s Eve, first grandchild had a first birthday, and even though it was a Zoom event, it turned out pretty well. First birthday, first cupcake with frosting, summarily rejected. A surprise! 

The Zoom crowd of between 15 and 25, at different times, made friendly banter and oohed and aahed over the antics of first grandchild. Mostly, first grandchild filled the screen with 1-year-old antics: hide and seek with the faces on the screen; a tumble with trusting sidekick and protector, the venerable, ancient and loving old dog. 

Add in some presents, a bow on top of the head, crinkling wrapping paper, and what I thought would last 15 minutes, ended up filling over an hour with laughter and loving memories. 

Other than that, highlights, for me at least, and a long time in coming, was hanging some pictures. For one of the pictures, a framed print, “Peacock for Sophie” by Boulanger, the wait was about 20 years. I bought it at a fundraiser for St. Joseph School when the kids were still there. The two others that went up were more recent purchases, a print by local artist Ashley Lodovico from a Bristol Historical Society auction, and the other a Christmas present, a poster “59 National Parks of the United States,” from one of the kids. 

I felt very accomplished, which is not saying much, and at the same time, saying a lot. I don’t have to tell anyone what type of year it has been, nor do I need to anticipate what type of year it may turn out to be. Sometimes completing a small job like hanging a few pictures can take on momentous importance. 

If you have the words for this past year, great. I don’t. If anything, for me, it’s a feeling, a feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched and stretched. The hope is that the stretching will stop before the band snaps.

Earlier on in this little experiment of community journalism that is The Bristol Edition (TBE), I tried talking to regular people about how they were managing in the time of Covid. The conversations are under “10 Minutes with” in the podcasts. If anything, the people in those conversations reminded me how good people can be, and, I think, the podcasts are worth listening to again for that reason. 

Of course, the podcasts fell off, not because they lost any of their power, or because I lost interest, but simply because school started and I had to head back to the classroom.  

One of the questions I ask toward the end of each podcast is, “What is one thing you would not want to forget about living through these times?”  The answers are worth listening to again, and mostly revolve around gratitude, for the people in their lives, and for the small things—laughter, birds in the backyard, a kindness afforded by a stranger, the gift of music. 

So, come Sunday morning, I am happy for the small things—for a Zoom birthday party, for hanging a few old prints, for sitting in a car with Mary while we wait for our Covid test, making a list of things that need to be fixed up around the house—not that we are going to get to all of them, only that making a list keeps us talking. 

And then even for small victories. I screwed up an online order to a local eatery, this time around Pure Foods. I could not get through by phone to correct the pick-up time, steamed a bit, and stumbled on an answer. I messaged Pure Foods, and I got a timely answer. 

“I’ll take care of it for you right now.” 

And a few seconds later. 

“Phone is fixed as well – thank you for letting us know that it was down.” 

Small victories! 

David Fortier is an educator, author and journalist, in addition to TBE editor-and-chief. Mary, his wife, is a city councilor serving the Third District. 

“Come Sunday morning” is intended to be a weekly review, a recounting of the past week and an anticipation of week to come. Among its features will be reviews of old and new books, sharing of favorite podcasts, some family news, Bristol events and happenings, and issues surrounding education, work and community journalism.