There are many different words to describe a special object. It’s a souvenir if you got it on a trip. It’s a memento if it reminds you of family or a lover. It’s a present if it is given to you to mark an occasion. It’s commemorative if it is in honor of a person or time. When we see, touch, or use these objects, they help us remember moments of our lives.
Now, more than ever, I feel a need to commemorate – or maybe just remember – this strange, surreal time known as 2020. What kind of objects sum up this experience? What kind of souvenirs do I keep from the longest staycation ever? What presents do I get for myself as reward for having survived one month, two months, six months (and counting) of lockdown? I’m not likely to forget the general fuzziness of this year, but what physical reminders will I look at ten years from now that will viscerally call to mind the year that evaporated in front of our eyes?
Back in May, when shops were allowed to reopen in a limited way, I stopped by C’est La Vie on Holly Street to say hello to the owner, Sylvie. I bought a frilly t-shirt made in France with the words “I Need Space” written out in sequins. That’s my Covid souvenir t-shirt.
I’ve never been an online shopper, and I don’t typically surf the internet, but one night I found myself looking at the website of an up-and-coming clothing designer based in Saudi Arabia that I’d seen in a magazine. With surprisingly few clicks, I ordered a jacket. The beautiful velvet piece arrived two weeks later. This is my Covid present to myself; an indulgence as reward for facing the challenges of the time.
I remember one morning in June thinking that trying to do my job as an Event Director during Covid was like trying to put together a puzzle when I didn’t know the picture and didn’t have all the pieces. Then, out walking in my neighborhood the same day, I found a puzzle piece lying on the ground. No image on it, just foggy grey-pink-bluish colors. No other puzzle pieces around. It’s my Covid memento, a thought turned into an object.
Early on in the lockdown, my dad and I decided to make dinner a celebratory event. Nearly every night since March 22 we have set the dining room table with linen, china, and crystal. We dress for dinner as if we were going out to a fine restaurant. After 140 or 150 formal dinners, we were getting pretty tired of our ordinary flatware. So I went online and ordered two place settings (don’t need a service for six if you can’t have anyone over!) of the most flamboyant and least expensive flatware I could find. The gold-tone knives, forks, and spoons are now my 2020 Covid Commemorative flatware.
What are your Covid souvenirs? Purchased, given, made, or found, what objects tell your Covid story?
