2020 Refecltions
This fall has been anything but normal (what even is normal in 2020…?).
Spring was just a disaster and full of unknown happenings and Covid was beginning to spread across the country. Stay-at-home orders and confusion are most of what I can remember.
Summer was a blur due to a huge lack of productivity and schedule confusion. We made it, but I honestly don’t remember too much about summer because the lack of structure is blurring my timeline. Then came Fall…
The fall started with Virtual School. Everyone in our county started virtual and our kiddos stayed virtual for most of the semester. It was the right move for our family to mitigate risk and give the kids a consistent schedule. Virtual school was not easy but it was manageable for a while. There was a “new factor” and some excitement around virtual and I was happy about having a little more schedule for the day at home.
Working from home and school at home are not an easy combo. I spend a good amount of time in meetings each weeks (sometimes several a day) and as the weeks progressed it was getting harder and harder to get the time I needed to engage with people and keep up with the kids schoolwork. They are in early Elementary school and still need plenty of assistance and encouragement to stay on track. After the first 9 weeks finished, my wife and I decided to try and get the kids back into their classes. After a few conversations with the school, we were cleared to bring them back to school after fall break.
Covid
Fall Break was anything but a break. Kami was exposed to Covid the week Fall Break started from a friend who’s child had been exposed at pre-school. It was a whirlwind of a few days filled with questions, fear, and unknowns. After a day or two it was pretty clear that Kami had Covid. A few days later I also tested positive as well and we are confident our kids also had Covid as well. On top of feeling terrible (that tired feeling was like nothing I had experienced before…) I was just afraid of one of us feeling even worse.
We seemed to be part of a big local spread in our area as I was seeing online people that I knew contracting Covid every day. While we had Covid, a friend from High School messaged me to let her know that she also contracted Covid that same week. A few weeks later she would pass away from complications that led to pneumonia. It was a shattering moment for me because I saw someone I knew, who was my age, die from Covid. She had a kid nearly the same age as my son and I knew that could have just as easily been me (or Kami). I know hundreds of thousands of people have already died because of Covid, but there was something about knowing someone my age who died that really brought it home. That would not be the only death I would experience.
A momentary break
The did did end up going back to school 2 weeks after Fall Break. It was great for them to see their friends, participate in class, and spend time out of the house. Those fears of exposure were gone since we all had contracted Covid, so I was not nervous about sending them to school to see other people.
Life was getting back to normal for a few moments (well, as normal as 2020 could be). The kids were in school, Kami was at work, and I got to go spend time at my office. I had not spent more than a few hours in my office at a time so it was great to get time each day to get work done in relative peace and quiet. Even if I picked them up from school, I still had 7 hours to get work finished. It was the most normal I had felt since March of this year.
I felt like we were walking out of the dark into a new chapter of 2020. But 2020 has a way of flipping the script…
Pappy
A few weeks after the world went back to normal for our little family, it fell apart for our extended family. The weekend before Thanksgiving Kami’s grandfather contracted Covid. He had been staying in a nursing home facility for the past several months after having a stroke in January of this year. His health was deteriorating and Covid seemed to really expedite the process. Because of the outbreaks at the facility over the last few months, they had not really allowed visitors in the room.
That Friday night, I knew we had to do something to see Pappy and help the family. In a moment of clarity, it seemed like our Covid experience with out family unit made sense. Kami or I could go visit Pappy. We had just had Covid a few weeks ago so we would be safe visiting with him and could decontaminate when we left the nursing home facility. We would not carry the virus inside of us and we could take precaution to make sure no one could get it right after we saw him. Kami ended up going that Friday evening to visit with Pappy.
I set up a Zoom call for the family and we were all able to connect with him for a few hours. It was great to have family from Atlanta to Alaska on the Zoom call sharing stories and laughing together. Kami was a superstar and helped facilitate the conversation and spent even more time with Pappy after the call ended. We did not know it at the time, but that evening would be the last time Pappy was awake to talk with anyone. Saturday was filled with sitting, waiting, and watching. Pappy did not wake up at all on Saturday. It was a somber day with a few back-and-forth conversations when someone from the family would jump on the Zoom call to check in on Pappy and Kami. Kami spent most of the day there with no change in Pappy’s health.
On Sunday, Kami was (understandably) exhausted. There is a physical and mental toll that hospital-type rooms bring. Add the weight of Covid, lack of visitation options, and the looming reality that Pappy’s time on this earth was coming to a close and you have the perfect storm of exhaustion. That afternoon, Kami asked if I would be willing to go sit with Pappy. I was glad to offer my help and began prepping a bag full of cables, charges, and other tech products to make sure that I could stay online and connected with everyone in the family that evening. I arrived at the facility around dinner time and got connected to the Zoom call with the family. It was an emotional time filled with a quiet sadness that was felt more than it was heard. It was a mixture of pain of the impending reality and the fact that no one wanted Pappy to suffer anymore; he deserved to be in peace and free from pain.
This was a new experience for me. I have not sat with someone in their final hours before, and I was honestly feeling several feelings at the same time. I was grateful that I could be here for Kami and her family. I was sad to see Pappy in such a state of fragility. I was scared of what could happen over the next few hours. Most of all, though, I felt a sense of understanding and clarity about why our family had all contracted Covid just a few weeks ago. We were the only people in the family who could visit Pappy without risking our personal health or having to quarantine for two weeks. We could be a bridge to the rest of the family and thanks to video technology they could be there with us.
By 10:30 PM. all the family was online together. When everyone in the family started talking with Pappy, he began to relax and his breathing because less labored. It’s as if he was holding on until everyone could be together. Pappy was a kind and generous person and even on his deathbed he was giving gifts. His family was together, even if it was virtual.
Around 9:00 PM, I was just sitting there with Pappy when I decided that I needed to capture how I was feeling at that moment. It was something I had really not experienced before, so I took a few minutes to try and capture what I was feeling. Here is a snippet of something I wrote that night.
Pappy’s body is failing him as he continues to struggle to breath. His breaths are shallow and they don’t seem to offer any satisfaction. As a sit here listening to to his labored breathing, I am reminded of the fragility of life. Breathing is all he has left. Maybe breathing is all any of have left.
Pappy passed away around 11:00 PM that evening. It was peaceful and still and if I was not watching him I could have easily missed it. I was an emotional wreck, but I did take comfort knowing that it was less of a struggle and more of a surrender. There were goodbyes and tears. There was sadness but also a peace in the room.
Thanksgiving and beyond
We were able to spend some time with family in-person that Thanksgiving week for Pappy’s funeral. It was good to see everyone in person, even if just for a few hours. Pappy never met a stranger. He could strike up a conversation at the drop of a hat and he had a way of remembering people and his connection with them even years later.
Our kids would only spend a few more days in school after Thanksgiving break. As I type this, they are home once again for Virtual School till the middle of January. Their entire county is all home due to the spread of the pandemic in our area. We have freezer trucks sent in from FEMA to hold bodies and our hospital are on the brink of crumbling.
Covid-19 is the shadow over 2020. It’s an unseen but felt reminder that things are just not right. Yet we continue walking, we continue working, and continue trying to figure out how to manage. I am tired. I’m trying to keep it together, but I am growing weary. I know that I am not alone, and I don’t pretend to think they my struggles are worse than any else’s. But maybe we could all just admit that this year has been challenging for us all in general and specific ways.
2021 is not going to be a magic bullet. We will wake up in the reality that we have created together in 2020 (both by our own choices and the choices of others beyond our control). We do, however, get to decide what we make of 2021. Hatred, division, and strife can continue. We can fighting with our neighbors and create enemies to the left and to the right. There will always be things to fight over (it’s kind of human nature).
Or, we can walk into 2021 together ready to face the challenges that will come. We can grow into something greater together, if we want. What could we become in 2021? What could we use our breath for in 2021? After all, breathing is all we have left.
