Normally my blogs come in one of two different fashions.

 

Sometimes I write about someone that has an inspiring story to share, such as the one on Madie Wilson leading into the girls state basketball tournament. That one is one of my all-time favorites even if it was just a month ago but now feels like a lifetime ago in the COVID-19 world we are all living in now.

 

Sometimes I will take an event and make light of it by poking fun at myself in an effort to suggest the situation probably wasn’t worth getting worked up over in the big scheme of things.

 

Today is new territory for me. I don’t have an inspiring story to share and this pandemic isn’t something to joke around about.

It’s not that I have become a doomsday believer. As an eternal optimist, I do think the world is going to beat this. The problem is I just don’t know when.

 

I’ve said those three words a lot in the past month — I don’t know.

 

I don’t know how much worse it is going to get. I don’t know if there will be a high school spring sports season. I don’t know when we will be able to go out in public without restrictions again. I don’t know how many people are going to test positive for COVID-19. I don’t know how many people are going to die from COVID-19.

 

As a friend, a husband, a father, a son and a journalist, I hate that the only answer I have to the questions is “I don’t know.”

 

Today marks the start of the fifth straight week that the staff at Connect-Bridgeport has worked from home.

 

I’m thankful that I have a job that allows me to work from home and I’m thankful that a paycheck coming in isn’t a worry.

 

Unfortunately, there are a lot of people out there where that is a major concern so the last thing I want to do is rub their nose in it. I also don’t want to complain about there being a few days where I have probably put in a longer day than if things were back to normal and I left for work. But I miss going to the office.

 

I miss saying good morning to Cassie, Jeff and Julie at the start of the day and wishing them a good evening at the end of the day.

 

I miss the 11 a.m. explosion at the Rec Complex construction site that shakes our building but offers me a daily reminder that things are moving forward.

 

I miss being able to walk across the street and get a slice of pizza for lunch.

 

I miss leaving work and stopping to see if the stores have the latest baseball card release on the shelves.

 

I miss people.

 

In this line of work, doing interviews or just getting a clarification on something is part of your daily routine. Out of necessity or sometimes just because of logistics, that has to be done by phone.  

 

I can of course do that at home but I prefer talking to people in person whenever I can and that option has been taken away from this job right now because of social distancing guidelines.

 

Working from home is a nice option to have when you are a little under the weather or a snowstorm has made the roads unsafe to drive on. I’m not sure I’m crazy about doing it for this long of a time.

 

However, here’s an important thing to keep in mind. I may miss going to the office, but I am not tired of being stuck at home. If anything, I’ve gained some new perspective.

 

I am blessed that me and my wife and daughter are able to sit down at the table and eat dinner together. I am blessed that my Mom and Dad are just across the street and I can go check on them any time I want.

 

I’ve really enjoyed being able to take our now four-month old puppy Oliver out for longer walks. Watching the world through his eyes generally serves as a daily pick-me-up for myself. Watching him jump up and down on the big rocks in the yard, chewing on sticks, following the birds from branch to branch, prancing through the woods like he is king of the jungle, that’s a daily highlight in a time where daily highlights are hard to come by.

 

And if I can just take a second to brag about Oliver. We’ve given a handful of his toys names and when we call out the name, he goes and gets the correct toy. For example, if I say, “Go get Bob.” He goes and gets his stuffed groundhog that we named Bob. He’s not only a good boy, he’s a smart boy.

 

In another universe, my work-from-home area could loosely be called a man cave. A more accurate description would be to call the area a catch-all room that somehow a desk was squeezed into. If you look around, you will think sports and pop culture had a collision.

 

I’m sitting at the desk right now thinking about how many game stories have been written or how many all-state ballots have been tabulated right here through the years. The past couple of weeks it has been Governor Jim Justice press conferences, HDDR statistics and cancelled events.

 

I’ve started to really take a moment when I need it and look around at my surroundings and I have found new appreciation for memories from my own life.

 

Directly to my right are two items that mean the world to me.

 

One is a pencil case that my sister, Jennifer, made me while she was a patient at the National Institute of Health. Jennifer passed away from leukemia, the summer of 1990, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss her or think about her. This pencil case though, I can look at it and it makes me smile and remember all the good times we had.

 

The second item is a picture plaque that Hanna McClung gave me after I presented her with the Mary Ostrowski Award at a Victory Awards Dinner. At the top, there is an inscription that reads, “Thank you for YOUR part of my story.”

 

Anytime I doubt myself as a writer, I look at that and I’m reminded what kind of affect I can have on a person by taking the time to get to know them and writing about their journey.

 

Everywhere I look in this room, there is an object. But it isn’t just an object, it’s a memento. But it isn’t just a memento, it is a memory.

 

I’m looking at bobble heads and media credentials and wrestling figures and stacks of baseball cards and I’m seeing them differently. I’m remembering where that bobble heads came from. I’m thinking of my sports writing peers I was at those games with that required credentials.

 

I’m thinking about the friends I’ve made because of the baseball cards or the look of excitement on the face of one of my younger cousins when I have given them cards and it’s sparked an interest in the hobby for themselves.

 

I’m looking at the pictures on the wall and I’m not worried about the face I’m making, I’m recalling how fun that day was when the picture was taken and how much I love the person that is in the picture with me.

 

I don’t have any answers and I don’t have any inspirational stories to share right now. I just have this tiny piece of advice for you: Take a look around at what you have and don’t just be thankful, remember it. Remember how it came to be there.

 

Let your dog take you for a walk as much as you are taking him for one. Don’t just look at your pictures, remember why they were taken in the first place.

 

I’m ready for things to be back to normal in regard to the COVID-19 pandemic. I’m ready to go back to the office. I have no idea when that will be but when it happens, I’m going back with new admiration for what I already have.

 

Be safe and take care of one another.