The Umbrian countryside on May 4, 2020
May 4th, 2020 marked the beginning of Phase Two of Italy’s emergence from more than two months in lockdown. Like millions of others in Italy, my Instagram and Facebook timelines depicted my breakout into the sunny, open space of freedom. Piazzas that were once deserted showed signs of life. In Orvieto, streets were occupied with familiar faces—covered in masks yet eyes smiling at the thought of better days ahead. We all knew this day would come. At some point, we have to venture out and learn to live with the virus.
I thought I was ready. On day two, I’m not so sure.
May 5, 2020
Grey, overcast skies replaced the bright blue ones of 24 hours ago. From my bed, I scrolled through my phone, jumping from article to alarming article about flattening curves, peaking contagions, a looming resurgence, and risks to a vulnerable workforce. I pulled the covers over my head to hide from the harsh reality: the end of the lockdown does not mean the end of the pandemic.
In her piece Why you might be dreading the end of lockdown in the Washington Post, my friend Elizabeth Heath wrote about her apprehension at leaving the safety of quarantine. “For those of us who haven’t been sick and who haven’t lost loved ones or jobs as a result of the pandemic, life has simply gotten strange — and really, really small. And while stay-at-home orders come with their own set of stressors, there’s also a certain comfort in being cocooned, of our routines being limited to a few permissible daily activities, and in just having to take care of the people and things in our immediate bubble.”
Phase Two offers a reprieve from my solitary confinement, but like a prisoner who’s become used to her captivity, I’m uneasy outside my apartment walls.
These days, nearly every conversation that dares to broach the subject of planning for the future, sputters out and dies with the phrase, “No one knows for sure.” No one knows when we can visit friends, share a meal, or travel outside our region to the seashore. I ask when will tourism resume? Will there be a vaccine or a treatment? How will businesses and families survive? When will I see my mom and son again? It’s an endless loop of questions that go unanswered. What I do know with absolute certainty is that we just can’t will this pandemic away.
Orvieto or Bust: 
I totally get how you feel. It’s hard to emerge from prison – everything you thought you missed and wanted suddenly acquires a slightly threatening dimension. Good luck and hope your questions are answered soon:) https://helpincoronatimes.wordpress.com/2020/05/04/ease-comes-with-some-unease/
Thanks. You too.
Ciao Toni,
I look forward to your articles. It is difficult to adjust to the new uncertainty, I am working from home, but will the business survive? will it ever be safe for my grandkids to go back to school? to go back to anything?
Strange & scary! Overwhelming at times if I think too much.
take care, enjoy your lovely walks around beautiful Orvieto! ( and share photos please)
sue gaughan
I know. We are all suffering so much from all the unknowns. Thanks for staying in touch and being so supportive of Orvieto and Italy, while you are going through your own mess there. Be well, Sue.
Toni, thank you. You are an awesome writer!
Thank you, Janet. That’s so sweet of you to say. I hope you guys are well. xxxo
I’m so glad you wrote this because I have been thinking of you often, and wondering about your freedom… Hopeful when I heard restrictions were being lifted, but concerned about the possibility of spreading illness. My prayers are with the scientists, hoping they will come up with an effective and safe vaccine very soon… Or at least a widely available cure. Only then do I think we will really be able to get back to normal. Meanwhile, enjoy the fresh air, and I’ll keep you… and us all… In my prayers.