If you thought this was gonna be a scathing indictment of the worldwide lockdowns, you will be disappointed. Sure, I think I could make an argument that many of the lockdown measures have been unnecessary, extreme and even Draconian, but this won’t be it. Will see whether FB slaps me down anyway.

The following are two stories, random really, about lockdown consequences. One is fairly trivial and one is serious.

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I’ve always had great eyesight. I was the kid who when we were driving could read a sign a couple hundred yards away. “How can you read that?” someone would ask. I’d shrug. I remember my mother taking me to an optometrist as a small child, who declared I was 20-20 (whatever that meant) and wouldn’t need glasses “until you are 40.” Since that was an infinite time away I thought, ‘I’ll never need glasses.’

Nonetheless by my mid-40s my ability to read the computer and newspaper seemed to be waning and after decades I reluctantly went to an optometrist. “Why are you here?” he asked after examining me. “You’re 20-20 (by now I knew what that meant).” I explained the problem I was having and he explained why I needed cheap reading glasses despite my perfect vision.

When Janet and I married we went to optometrists a couple times. The last time was three years ago, just before we moved to the Philippines. The doctor pronounced that we were both 20-20. “Which one of us has better eyesight?” Janet asked. The doc reluctantly admitted it was the ancient husband. I rubbed Janet’s nose in that one for awhile.

As the lockdown and quarantine has partially lifted here in Dumaguete, my buddies and I have returned to playing golf. Before Covid-19 became an insane part of our lives, our weekly game was a high point of my retired life. Today we returned.

The course’s first hole is a short 100 yard par 3. I hit a decent shot just off the green. I saw the ball fly all the way but when it landed 100 yard away I saw two balls. Everyone else hit their shots and as I focused on each white ball after landing, I saw two of each. OK, there’s a nasty joke in here, but I’m not writing it.

I blinked my eyes, shook my head and wondered what was wrong. I had no problem seeing trees or the flagstick or anything else; just looking at that tiny while ball in the distance seemed a problem. As the round proceeded I tried to focus on each ball in the distance. I had no problem seeing the ball in general. As always I could tell my companions, “your shot’s 10 feet left of the cup (ok that didn’t happen often).” After a while I wasn’t seeing double, I was seeing maybe 1 1/2 balls.

By now I had told my fellow players who expressed concern and suggested I go check it out. And I probably will do that when this is all a little closer to being over. By the 18th hole I was seeing almost normally; 1 ball and a slight blur. It then hit me. For two months I’d been indoors. I spent lots of time looking at computers and phones and TVs. Sure I’d gone out a bit and walked around. But I’d had no reason to focus on a small object 100-200 yards away. I hadn’t even driven, where focusing in the distance is important. So, for now I no longer have the best vision in the world. I wonder what else I’ve damaged with two months indoors.

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I’ve said often that I really like all of Janet’s family members. Not a bad one in the group. But, if I think about it, the person I like most (and don’t tell any other family members this) is Janet’s Lolo (Grandfather). His great grandchildren call him Lolo Old Guy (as opposed to Janet’s father, who is their Lolo/grandfather), which is pretty funny. He speaks no English but he was always very nice to me. Whenever I see him we share a beer. That is the extent of our relationship, which only proves that a relationship can be built on a very simple thing.

Lolo (from Janet’s mother’s side) turns 90 this Sunday. For the last couple years at least Janet has been telling him that she will throw him a big 90th birthday party with a couple pigs. In the Philippines the size and importance of a party is always defined by how many pigs you have. Janet reminds him of this often because we have all noticed that as he has aged he seems not as happy as before.

Last year he was sick in the hospital. The flu became pneumonia. They gave him oxygen and antibiotics. He talked about how it was his time to go. But it wasn’t. Slowly he recovered and went home. His strength was down but Janet reminded him he had to hold on for his huge 90th birthday party. Janet had also intended to fly in some of his children, who live in Luzon and no doubt cannot afford airfare.

And then Covid-19 and the quarantine came. Lolo, who always liked a daily walk, could not leave his house. He could not understand why his daughter (Janet’s mom) could not visit him, nor could his grandchildren or great grandchildren, all of whom live within a ten minute walk. Janet’s mom tried to explain but how do you explain viruses and quarantines to a 90 year old, who just wants to see his family.

He talks about the end and everyone tries to keep his spirits up and remind him of the party. Now that the lockdown has been relaxed a bit, Janet has come to the conclusion with my help, that it’s time for Lolo to take an occasional walk and carefully see some of his family. It’s the only thing he wants in life and at 90 he should have it.

I know that Janet is heartbroken that she cannot be there with him for his birthday. She tells her family that when travel between islands resumes we will have a real party; all of us together. But in the meantime this Sunday there will be a pig and we sent a video greeting.

And while I don’t tell Janet, not being there breaks my heart too.