Glaring, menacing, unwelcome– these are some of the adjectives that filled my mind when I looked at the positive Covid tests on the dining room table. After two years, we finally succumbed to the beast. I didn’t want to believe it. ” Aren’t you mad? I asked Mitch. His answer, midst coughing, was what I thought it would be. “What is the point?”
We spent the last weekend of July in Michigan, visiting my father-in-law in the ICU. A doctor’s visit revealed that he needed quadruple bypass surgery immediately. We also saw my father, but that visit took place outside in Waterford’s beautiful courtyard. Corey’s positive test prompted a flurry of phone calls to family members. It also meant that all hospital visits would end. I envisioned a dart board with Covid in the center. Throwing darts at this virus would feel so good! Down with Covid! Thankfully, my father-in-law, mother-in-law, and dad did not contract the virus. My father-in-law is recovering at home and seems to be doing well.
It was almost a textbook case. Exactly five days later, I felt like a truck ran over my head. As Corey pointed out, I don’t really know what that feels like, but it doesn’t matter. My head felt like a swirling mass of congestion, my back ached like I lifted a couch up the stairs, and my joints were on fire. Yuck.
However, I had to do something productive so I decided to read a book in one of my favorite areas- World War II. Reading a book about three sisters surviving the Holocaust takes the focus off temporary setbacks. What resiliency! How do people keep going in a concentration camp when everything is against them? I admired their tenacity in the midst of horror.
It reminded me of my mother who would always say, ” It can always be worse. Chin up!” Covid will pass. Soon it will be another blip in life’s journey.
A Journey Worth Remembering 