Isolated But Not Alone

About two months ago, my dearest friend passed away. I had the privilege of spending time with her as she left us slowly while receiving hospice care. Being near her during that time was comforting to me, therapeutic, even. Although it broke my heart to watch her go, being present with her made me feel like I was doing something, little as it may have been, when I was otherwise feeling helpless; helping to reposition her; changing the cloth on her forehead; holding her hand.

Gathering with her family and other friends that were close to her in the days and weeks to follow her death were so vital to me during the grieving process. Being around those who loved her like I did gave me strength and somehow helped me to feel a little less alone. I was grateful for those moments as they were happening. Considering how much has changed in our world in the short months since then, I now treasure those moments and can’t quite wrap my head around what it would have been like losing her now.

I will admit, when I first heard news of the spread of COVID-19 across the globe, I wasn’t overly alarmed. Perhaps in part because I wasn’t following the development in real time, and largely because it felt so far away. I was grieving other things and trying to keep my emotions in check and my schedule managed. I certainly felt heavy hearted for those directly impacted, but it didn’t really feel personal. Until suddenly it did.

Now I feel like I am living in such a strange reality, as I am sure most of us do. Every morning when I wake up, I remind myself that things have shifted. In the background of the dreams I have for my life and the goals we have as a family is this world-wide pandemic that is a threat to us all. Trying to balance wisdom and concern with hope and optimism can be challenging. I find myself being thankful to have a job and an income when so many are struggling, while also being anxious to go to work in healthcare. It is difficult not to wonder with each shift if it might be the one that brings the virus much closer to me, and in turn, to my family. Because I have asthma, getting sick with COVID-19 is a bit scarier to me than it otherwise might be.

As the death toll rises globally and I consider those on hospice care or those leaving us due to this virus, my heart aches for the friends and family members that are not able to gather, to comfort their loved ones, to hold hands. I hope that those who are grieving can find outlets and creative ways to connect with others during this time.

One thing I have been attempting to make routine during this time of social distancing is to reach out to people as often as I can, be it through text, a phone all, a letter, a video message, an email. It seems like we are all capable of contracting and spreading this virus to many; but we are also capable of contacting and supporting many if we have access to the resources to do so. Perhaps collectively we can support those who are grieving; checking in often, and just reminding others that though we may not be in their physical space with them, we are there nonetheless. They are not alone. You, dear reader, are not alone. And though it sometimes takes reminding, I am not alone.

I have been telling my children and friends that have any inclination toward writing or the arts that we are living through a time that will be remembered and taught to generations to come … this is stuff for the history books; let’s express our feelings and thoughts while they are fresh and raw. I would love to know what you are thinking and how this pandemic is affecting you and your loved ones. If stories can foster any amount of hope and comfort, let’s share them! With love from my living room (that I am very thankful for) …