BALTIMORE -- About noon on a Saturday in May, Sarah Holzman threw open the front door to her home to greet more than a dozen relatives and friends. It was the first gathering since before the pandemic began. Inside her home were the fixings for a massive, all-in-one party, from Easter eggs and birthday cupcakes to Thanksgiving pies and Christmas presents.
"A lot of people were saying, 'Next year, next Christmas, next Fourth of July.' We were like: 'No, we have to have this one back,'" Holzman said.
After months of isolation, with socially distanced, outdoors events and Zoom calls, the covid-19 vaccines have ushered in a time of reunions. Some people like Holzman are hosting large parties.
"We have a lot to make up for," said Holzman, a therapist who began making plans after the adults in her family were fully vaccinated.
Holzman and her husband, Rich, welcomed a crew of guests including their adult children, her parents, her brothers and their children. They marked the dozen birthdays that had been missed with cupcakes, each decorated with a personalized age candle. Chairs were set up to honor the two college graduates.
A lunch of hot dogs and hamburgers symbolized July Fourth. An egg hunt and dinner with ham, asparagus and mashed potatoes recalled the lost Easter. The Holzmans' neighbors showed up in Halloween costumes with trick or treat candies. They sang Christmas carols and exchanged gifts. For the New Year, the children counted down and blew noisemakers.
"It was so great to see each other's faces in real life," Holzman said. "Hugging felt even better."
For one Baltimore family, their more than a year wait to see a beloved mother and grandmother finally ended on a Thursday night in late May. Rebecca Echols' mother drove 13 hours from Florida to see Echols, her husband, and their two children.
They had last been together in March 2020, for a spring break at Disney World. Since then, Echols said the family tried to stay in touch with virtual calls with their "Mimi."
When her mother, Debbie Bell, 65, climbed out of the car that evening, Echols' children ran to her, with Arden in her fairy wings. They collapsed in a long hug.
"It felt like hope and relief," said Echols, an assistant professor at Morgan State University. "It has been such a long time."