When I stood in our kitchen and read aloud from a notice on my iPhone that public masses were to be suspended, almost certainly through Easter, Mary let out a gasp. We stared at each other, wide eyed.

Cradle Catholics, we couldnt imagine a Palm Sunday, Holy Week, Good Friday and Easter Sunday without the gift we had taken for granted our whole lives that is, being both physically and spiritually present for the ceremonies and music and prayers and fellowship that define our spiritual year.

Since then, so many things we couldnt have imagined have become the things of every day life. The horrid national death toll, of course, and the fear and confusion. Also the smaller, less-significant things: No Y workouts. No library stops. No coffee-shop visits. No handshakes and hugs.

Now grocery shopping is a masked-up mission of military style planning. The recent spring shearing of my winter-furred springer spaniel was a similarly stragegized affair. I scheduled and paid in advance by phone, announced with a text my presence outside the Animal Clinic and walked with Rosie on a leash to meet a masked, gloved staffer out in the parking lot.

Personal health care changed, too. When I noticed a worrisome spot on my head, I notified my dermatologist. Rather than an office visit, I downloaded an app, set up an appointment online, had Mary shoot pictures of the spot and sent them in by smart-phone.

Read the rest here:

WOSTER: Trying to replicate the spiritual blessings from afar - Rapid City Journal