Sometimes we don’t even realize what is taken away. 

Social lockdown in Gibraltar started with the cancellation of events and quickly escalated to the point where anyone under 70 could only go out for essential work, minimal exercise, or to shop for necessities. Gathering with anyone other than members of your own household was forbidden. Anyone over 70 was mandated to stay indoors unless going out was absolutely essential. 

I thought the greatest impact was on my social life, as to be barred from inviting people over or leaving the house to meet others was very distressing. Yet I managed by chatting over social media with people there were only a few floors or a few blocks away. I, like everyone else, adapted. Aren’t we a resilient bunch? 

By the end of April Gibraltar had a low number of cases, and with no new cases for almost a week, everyone started to get antsy. “When will they start to ease the restrictions?”, everyone wondered aloud. 

While we have repeatedly been cautioned that social distancing remains vital, restrictions have eased. The over 70s are permitted to go out, and stores have reopened. People are absolutely giddy about going to a hair appointment. 

People have also started to act a bit as they did before. That includes me. Previously, I had refused even to go for a walk with others. But when I told my friend Cathy that yes, I was ready to join her for a walk, and she suggested we go on my birthday, it was perfect. A normal event was the perfect present!

As I walked to our assigned meeting place I realized she had invited a few others. How odd it was to walk up to each other, excited to see and be seen, and yet nervously stay away, to keep distanced? We were as shy and awkward as little kids on the first day of preschool, trying to mask it by laughing about weight gain and the other effects of lockdown. 

We settled into a comfortable pace and enjoyed our time together, although I noticed that everyone tried to keep their distances from friends and strangers alike. At one point, back into the routine of old times, I playfully tapped my friend on the shoulder. She looked as if she had been burned, and instantly I felt guilty. And sad. I am not meant to stay metres away from the people I care about. 

Cathy announced that we had to be back to a restaurant at a certain time as she was meeting her husband, but it was all a ruse. Yes, her husband was there, but he came to hang a little “Happy Birthday” banner on the fence, and others had been told of the plot, encouraged to stop to ‘grab a coffee’ just around the time that we would be arriving. The real point, of course, was to wish me happy birthday. There was even cake with the obligatory singing of “Happy Birthday”. 

Yet it wasn’t right. We are in Gibraltar, land of the “kiss-kiss” greeting on each cheek! But we all stood, smiling and greeting one another from afar. While I was grateful for the gathering, I couldn’t help but feel melancholy. I didn’t exactly know why. 

Days later, it was another friend’s birthday. I bought him a card and placed it for him to pick up, moving away. He came forward, opened it, and laughed. Then he became serious. 

“Tammy, do you know what I really want for my birthday?”

“What?”

“A hug. Can I have a hug?”

Instantly I knew I wanted one too. 

He put his arms around me, laughing, and I laughed back. It was a long, gripping hug, and it was the best thing in months.

I had forgotten how good a hug feels. 

And I realized the loss of a social life was not my travesty of social lockdown. In fact, I had not lost my social life, the nature of it had merely changed. 

What I had lost was the joy of physical human contact. All the Zoom meetings I can schedule are no substitute for the warmth from another human hand. 

I can’t wait for the day when I can give a kiss on a cheek as a greeting, a tap on the shoulder for affection, a handshake as a welcome, or a hug just because it’s time for a hug.