For the first time since the pandemic began, we ate out, something we usually do several times in any given week. We work at home, and getting out is important for our mental health and creative spark.

We have very few dining choices in our town: the Bog, Calvano’s Italian Restaurant, and the Burger Den. Each one has a single dish that one or both of us like.

Sometimes, we drift to Bennington, Vt., sometimes to Williamstown, Mass., sometimes to Saratoga Springs, sometimes to Glens Falls, at the entrance to the Adirondacks.

We live in the middle of these places, we missed hopping in the car and heading out for dinner.

We went Italian tonight. The restaurant is now allowed to fill 75 percent of their seats.

We wore masks going in and out, but not during, dinner. It was great to go out together tonight, the conversation was easy and fun. The staff seemed especially happy to see us, there was a festive sense to the place.

It was a very good feeling, going out.

Maria got buzzed on some white wine – she is a pleasant drinker. I had seltzer water. We were both beaming, toasting ourselves and our work.

I am proud of us, I guess, and all the people who did the right thing.

It was a challenge for us as it was for so many others. A lot of people took great risks and underwent great sacrifice to take care of others.

We followed the rules, listened to the scientists, were careful not to risk harming other people or put them at risk, wore our masks, kept our distancing, and now, both of us have our vaccines.

We live in a darkly suspicious time, given the choice, I try to trust, not fear.

I am glad we believed in the pandemic, otherwise, we would not feel so celebratory and relieved. The doubters and conspirators don’t know what they missed. It’s rare one gets a chance to really confront a challenge like that. I liked the way we handled it, I think Maria feels the same way.

It feels good. It feels honorable. It feels like something is ending and something is beginning. It was rough for us, much rougher for many others.

I am sorry for the half-million people who didn’t make it. I make it a point to remember them when I start to feel sorry for myself. At someone at high risk, the pandemic was sometimes frightening for me. But then, it became routine, as so many disturbing things do.

I feel badly for the people who bought the lie that the pandemic wasn’t real or couldn’t harm them, or was a political stunt. Our country, I think, is learning how to lie and hide and blame rather than love and face the truth.

Ignorance and conspiracy have replaced learning and empathy and community for so many.

I don’t wish to ever be ignorant or paranoid. I hope I never bow to conspiracy.

I am grateful – we are grateful – that we did not go down that path.

Each of us has to make our own way and make up our own minds.  I don’t tell other people what to do and try hard not to judge them. Speaking for myself, I’m glad where our minds took us.

Tonight we toasted us. We felt good, not angry or self-pitying. We got through it. We watched out for one another and cheered each other on in a way that is uplifting and meaningful.

We respected the doctors and scientists who worked so hard to get us through it.

Sometimes, you just have to listen.