Well, the last six weeks or so have been...ummm...interesting. For posterity's sake, we realized we need to update the blog with how the COVID-19 pandemic is impacting our family in Midtown Manhattan.
We've been hiding out right in the middle of what has become the epicenter of this epidemic. It's not unusual to look out the window and see first-responders there to take the sick to the hospital. But sometimes it looks like the victims of the pandemic are headed to straight to the the morgue.
Sure, maybe our fears and actions are overblown. After all, we're young. Reasonably. We're healthy. Reasonably. The vast majority of the victims recover just fine. But not all.
Will we ever get the pictures of the mass graves from right around us in Hart Island out of our mind?
Will the knowledge that parents around us are dying in isolation, family members barred from saying goodbye be seared into our psyche.
How can life go back to how it was after Wife spends an evening texting with a friend who is deathly ill from the virus herself, but using all of her strength to try to figure out how to dispose of her mother's corpse before the City carries through with the threat to bury her mother in a potter's field.
Most of America is going through the same thing we are - social distancing and staying home. What makes our experience a bit unique is that our family of four is hiding out in an apartment that is smaller than most American's bedroom. Of course, our dog has no idea what's going on, but having his humans with him constantly has him happier than he's ever been. He hopes this continues indefinitely.
When this pandemic is behind us, the world will be looking back on these events to analyze armchair quarterback what occurred. I suspect this will continue for months, years, decades and even centuries.
My whole life, I've heard how those who lived through the Great Depression had certain idiosyncrasies due to what they went through. For better or worse, we'll probably have the same thing. Will we ever shake hands again? Will holding the handrail on a crowded subway ever seem safe? Will Monk's fear of germs ever seem funny again? Will American's walk around the street looking like bank robbers become a permanent aspect of society? Even in the best case scenarios, I suspect there will be a piece of us that never goes completely back to our previous mindset.
There likely never be a time in our lives again, when we go months with only spending a few occasional moments more than 25 feet from our immediate family. I suspect that in a few decades, when I'm an old man and my girls are grown, this period of closeness may be some of the fondest memories of my life.
Or maybe this will be remembered as the lull before America's, or even the world's, economic collapse. Maybe the biggest takeaway from this will be he federal, state and local government's ability to make monumental demands of its citizens and businesses. Maybe there will be many of us who never go back to the type of human interactions we experienced a few weeks ago. But right now we just need survive - and to try to do our part so the more vulnerable around us survive.
For the last five weeks, church has been cancelled. The building is closed. There are no in person meetings. Of course, our church - most churches - has tried to minister and provide the ability to worship online, but watching an online video stream isn't the same as the church gathering together. But it's the best we can do given the circumstances. Organizing church programming has certainly kept Wife busy.
When church was initially closed, today was the day that everybody targeted for opening back up. We thought we'd take a month to let the virus pass and then start meeting together for Easter.
Nope.
Today we celebrated the Resurrection in our apartment. We watched a few church services online, but never left our apartment. Wife worked hard to make us all Easter baskets, so in that respect, it was normal. We even colored eggs. So many elements of today make it just like a normal Easter Sunday. But it wasn't.
No comments:
Post a Comment