Four months into CoronaWorld, as the number of cases rises in hot spots across the country, even those whose health remains unaffected by the coronavirus are suffering. I’ve encountered two recent examples.
Part 1, from college friends in New York’s Hudson Valley:
College Friend 1: “For three months I've stayed home, heartbroken, terrified, and unsure. My neighbors stayed home, too, here in the first U.S. COVID-19 hotspot. Too many of us died; the rest of us hunkered down and stayed home, out of work and bored and lonely and broke. We sacrificed; we stopped the dying. Now we're coming out, just a little, carefully, in our masks.
“We here in the first hot spot were shouting from our self-imposed isolation, ‘The virus is out there! It will come to you, too! Be sensible. Be thoughtful and careful!’ And nobody listened. Didn't believe us. Didn't want to believe us. Called us alarmist.
Meanwhile, we slowed then halted the spread of the virus.
“I want to celebrate our hard, communal sacrifice and our enormous success. I want to dance in the street in my mask!
“BUT: I have an elderly aunt and cousins with kids in Florida. I have elderly family friends who moved from Idaho to Texas to be closer to their own kids and grandkids. There's a young man I knew when he was a kid; now he's a young man who amazes me. He lives in Arizona; he's planning a move to Texas. And there are my sons, both in California, out in the world, working.
“Tonight, here in the first U.S. hot spot, I'm as heartbroken and worried as I was in April when it was most grim. I am ripshit, spittin' beetles, hopping mad that western folks aren't taking this seriously. I try to see good in all people, but sometimes it's hard to find.”
College Friend 2: “It took three months to douse it to the point it's at now here in New York, and it can blow up again at any time. We're at a new infection rate of 5 new cases per 100,000 population in the Mid-Hudson region, down from the peak in April of 72/100k (which was even higher than New York City’s peak). That new infection rate is the same as it was for us in late March, about 20 days before we reached the peak. The only difference is how people are behaving. If we are all sensible and do the important things (masks, 6 feet apart, outdoors when possible, avoid crowds, minimize exposure to others, don't stop and chat) we can snuff it out. If not, July could look a lot like April in Elmhurst, Queens.”
Part 2, from a high school friend and his sibling in California (two letters):
Letter Number 1: “Dear Siblings:
“I’ve been thinking about how we might celebrate Dad’s 80th birthday, even with Covid restrictions. Here’s an idea:
“Could we have a small, socially-distant party, including the kids, grandkids, and maybe a few close friends? If we all flew in, stayed at a nearby motel, and arranged catering for a small party, we probably wouldn't create much risk. Maybe we could reserve outdoor park space. Not sure how big we'd want to make it, but that likely depends on space options as well as safety considerations. Thinking it would be wise not to plan something too large, because by fall there could be another travel lock-down. If that happened, we could have a fallback plan of meeting via Zoom.
“What do you all think?
“Love, Sibling 1”
Letter Number 2: “Dear Siblings,
“Of course I have been thinking for months about Dad’s birthday. I had all kinds of plans I was hoping to share with you before this pandemic. I am happy for whatever can be pulled off, but now, end of June, I don’t know what the fall will look like.
“My imagination is that it won’t be very different from now: no vaccine, hot spots in various parts of the country, various and contradictory guidelines and laws in different jurisdictions, and no way to know if someone has the virus and is spreading it even without symptoms.
“Given that I believe those will be the realities, and given that I want to keep the risk of carrying COVID-19 to Dad, my family, and my work as low as possible, I have decided not to travel this summer or fall. It is a hard decision. I am crying as I write this.
“Just so you know, we have made a similar decision about visiting with our daughter and her family. They plan to come next month to stay with friends; we won’t see them. That makes me cry, too. Part of my sadness is that I’m being forced to make these choices. When we were all locked down, I wasn’t torn by possibilities; the biggest decision was whether to order groceries to be delivered or to shop myself. Now loved ones are traveling and visiting and I have to be the one who won’t join in.
“I keep thinking about possible consequences, no matter how remote. ‘Remember the summer we killed Grandpa?’ is not a family story I want to be responsible for. I really don’t relish being the spoil-sport. You are all able to and will make your own choices. I would like to join in as possible from home, via Zoom, for example. It totally isn’t the same. I have to stop—I can hardly see.
“I love you all.
Sibling 2”
No comments:
Post a Comment