It has been almost a year since we were invaded by an invisible enemy called COVID-19.

At first, we didn’t think much of it. It was not even a bother, just something the talking heads talked about on TV.

We were more in tune with the important stuff, like the chances the Red Sox could find enough firepower and reasonable pitching to knock off the powerful and ever dreaded Yankees.

No one even thought my bride would be stuck at home for nearly a year with no one to talk to except the idiot who talked her into visiting a Justice of the Peace a half-century ago.

For most of us, reality set in when we watched our local and national economy hit rough waters. Schools closed, hotel reservations were canceled, the busloads of tourists who fuel our coastal economy stayed home.

Our leaders tried to put a brave face on the pandemic. Some said it would just go away. Others suggested we turn to home remedies. Some even said those who bothered to take precautions, like wearing a mask, were, well, just sissies.

Meanwhile, the evening news featured local and national statistics showing hospitals being overrun with the sick and dying. What got me was when the hospitals had to rent refrigerator trucks to store the dead when funeral homes could not keep up.

Our political leaders, the folks we elected to take care of the nation’s problems, were blindsided.

As our nation dithered around trying to figure out what to do, the leaders did the same. The Republicans and Democrats went to their playbooks searching for the chapter telling them what to do when faced with a pandemic that kills a half-million Americans. Oops. no such chapter.

So, both sides decided to spend most of their time blaming each other. Name-calling became the order of the day, followed closely by schoolyard taunts. We saw whited-headed Congressmen wearing $1,000 suits hurl insults at others trying to deflect the blame to others when it clearly rested upon their shoulders.

Rule one for elected political leaders is that anything that threatens their ability to attract votes must be avoided. This time, the usual tactics didn’t move the needle even a little.

So they engaged in fratricide. It is an old tactic, going back to Cain and Abel. You just use all the weapons, polite and not so polite, to whack others. We watched this play out in Congress.

Then we held an election which brought us a new team of political leaders. No one, except die-hard fans, was surprised when the voters fired the incumbent after his squad failed Pandemic 101.

My friend Kevin Burnham loves the Patriots and their coach. But even he wouldn’t be surprised if the owner fired their sainted coach if the Pats failed to make the playoffs year after year. So voters brought in a new coach and he is trying to turn around the ship of state.

The first reports are pretty good. State and national public health statistics show the number of hospitalizations is down, as are the deaths.

Big Pharma produced two, and now three, vaccines that passed muster.

Some folks are worried about the vaccine's potential side effects. Some in the medical system wondered if the anti-vaccination movement would scare us away from getting a shot. That may be a factor in the coming months. But today, we see folks standing in long lines waiting for their turn to meet a smiling health care worker who will stab a needle in their arm.

Our state leaders say their biggest problem is a lack of vaccine rather than a lack of customers for the vaccine.

Today, Mr. Sun is beginning to soften the stubborn ice chunks clinging to the driveway. The tiny birds are skirmishing with squirrels over a place at the bird feeder.

Educators performed yeoman service inventing ways to teach our kids using laptops and iPads. Just as soon as it is safe for both teachers and students, they will get back in the classroom. Administrators are considering new school construction projects.

One of my favorite restaurants, which has been shuttered for a year, plans to open in the spring. I am sure others, those who hung in there and those that locked the doors and hunkered down, are getting ready to meet and greet customers, old and new.

Best of all, for us old-timers who cocooned at home for almost a year, a jab in the arm means a chance to escape the couch, say good-bye to the tyranny of the huge flat-screen TV, and think about visiting our kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids for a round of hugs, as long as we wear masks.

After all, if Dr. Anthony Fauci says we can visit, it must be OK.

Right?