On March 12, 2020, my life screeched to a crawl.

At one PM, I lost my job tutoring student-athletes attending the University of Missouri in Columbia until at least August.

By four PM, all sports that I care about were put on hold until–

By seven PM, I found out that rehearsals of three of the four choirs in which I sing had been cancelled until–

At around nine AM the following Sunday, I learned that rehearsals of the fourth choir in which I sing would not take place until church services resume. Forty-five minutes later, during prayer time after praise band rehearsal, one musician after another described how each of our gigs had been cancelled until–

The praise band’s final rehearsal took place three days later.

“What’s next for me?” I have been asking myself for the past month as I take my daily two-it-a-half mile walks with my guide dog during which I hear the sound of construction and landscaping equipment as we swerve around trucks blocking the sidewalk. The traffic roar seems more muted, freshening the air and making the early springtime raucous bird calls more prominent. I share greetings and conversations snippets with parents and their kids as I pass by.

“What’s next for me?” I have been asking myself while sitting on my deck listening to customers in cars negotiate the type of flavored caffeine they want through conversations with an amplified female voice and breathing in the greasy fumes of the community steak restaurant near my apartment building. This makes me hungry.

“What’s next for me?” I ask as I read and do household things while my SiriusXM (SXM) radio plays quietly in the background. Kudos to ESPN radio hosts who continue to find topics to explore, with a large assist from NFL free agent machinations. Recently, SXM management has switched several sports play-by-play channels to comfort music: Dave Matthews Band; yacht rock; and the top 1000 songs of varying genres. This relaxes.

“What’s next for me?” I ask myself as I work with friends who assist with the ever-increasing confusion around grocery shopping. Finding dog food and cranberry juice is challenging. I do have toilet paper.

“What’s next for me?” I ask myself as I take part in numerous virtual conversations through the wonders of Zoom. Twice-weekly calls when a bunch of us disability “experts” are trying to support a large healthcare company address ever-increasing challenges the virus is throwing at us. Weekly calls when I lead a Bible study. Weekly calls when praise band members check in with each other and begin planning how we can record songs without being in the same space, with help from apps that I don’t quite understand. Calls that various groups organize to discuss books, sports, politics, and living in these times while blind.

Who knows what’s next for all of us?

While the economy is slowing to the speed of a trotting horse, most of the people I know are working from home using Zoom while trying to figure out how to teach their kids, with varying levels of support from educators. Many employed in manufacturing or grocery stores are working in less-than-ideal conditions to serve customers. The tech sector is booming. As for doctors, nurses, paramedics, social workers, attendants for people with physical and/or developmental disabilities, and other healthcare professionals: you are awesome! Thank you thank you thank you! Try to stay safe and sane!

Businesses connected with hospitality and entertainment are in real trouble. Two of the three meetings of groups to which I belong originally scheduled to take place together during the next three months are instead being conducted remotely using Zoom, and the third has been rescheduled for October. The bass player in our praise band will move in with his parents in St. Louis if he can’t find work soon here. And what happens to my job and the Columbia economy if the college football season is delayed or canceled?

Columbia, like most other communities, is coming together to support each of us to wind our way through these times despite the antics in Washington, DC. As we approach Easter, I pray that we continue to rise to the occasion.

And that our efforts go viral.