Mike Zielinski

Mike Zielinski

Easter always has been a joyous occasion in our family.

But this year Easter was even more splendid.

My wife and I could freely interact and dine with our two sons, two daughters-in-law and five young grandchildren without fear of contracting COVID-19.

On Easter Saturday my wife and I were two weeks out from our second Pfizer vaccination. So we finally could hug and kiss our grandkids without fear of dying.

Our COVID-19 Pfizer vaccinations put a bolt-lock on our enforced isolation and separation. Call them a double shot of family love.

Our Easter dinner served as a resurrection of our normal family life. Indeed, that one special dinner made perjury out of lost time.

Family is society’s connective tissue, and it was wonderful to have us all under one roof again.

As we ate Easter dinner around our dining room table, my wife and my hearts couldn’t have felt warmer if we had wrapped them in Saran Wrap. We both basked in watching our grandkids laugh, smile, talk and eat.

God knows we missed them being so close to us.

FaceTime is a godsend during a pandemic. But nothing beats up close and personal.

Our happiness was one of those galactic explosions of white light that simply consumes everything else.

Like the rest of the world, the pandemic had cracked open our universe like it was a raw egg. Unlike Humpty Dumpty, this egg was put back together courtesy of our Pfizer shots.

What made our family time on Easter so incandescent is that the pandemic taught us how life can suddenly turn on a dime. So while we can we have to cling to family like it was a life preserver in a tsunami.

Remember the Great Flood that had everybody but Noah and two of a kind of every species treading water? It supposedly began on a Friday even though the forecast for that day was only partly cloudy.

Since we truly don’t know what is forecast for us, we have to savor every precious moment and pin it to our memory bank.

This Easter always will occupy a prime location in my memory bank.

Praise the Lord and Pfizer.

Mike Zielinski, a resident of Berks County, is a columnist, novelist, playwright and screenwriter.

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