*This was first published on my personal blog after a conversation I had with a dear friend about my father's death.
https://buchorodenberger.blogspot.com/2020/04/self-isolation-day-27-year-of-our-lord.html
This may feel a little scatter-brained, so apologies in advance. I believe a textual sprawl is about happen.
By the end of November of last year, I really thought the worst was over, that things could not possibly deteriorate into a space worse than the headspace I had found within myself. That was incorrect.
Perhaps I was simply too busy with life and its actual momentum (and its potential momentums) to allow myself the necessary moments to stop and simply breathe. Perhaps I had been more focused on the pain and suffering of those around me to really allow myself a moment to truly take stock of where I was and how I was doing. For all intents and purposes, I myself am doing much better than I was six months ago. A sick mother, a dead father, a dear friend on the run from her own very real demons - these were the things taking up space in my head. Some of that lingers, but it should be stated that I am perfectly fine and that I thrive in quiet moments like this.
But as my own personal world began dissolving back into something normal and regular, the world at large got turned on its head and asked us, as a single people, to act in unison to protect each other. I think we are mostly failing and, while I'm normally cynical about the inherent goodness of people, I am more so now as I witness these moments play out on the global stage. There is a selfishness I see that reminds me that we will always be our own worst enemy and that it will take more than scientists and an exponential rise in deaths to change the minds of those who believe this Covid-19 is all some kind of a hoax.
I worry that we will lose an entire generation of healthcare workers during these following months. They will be impossible to replace, both as specialists in their fields and as people in general. Time is not our friend in this regard.
I worry that we will also lose a large number of people who are being asked to work for and around a population that continues to subvert these rules, that people stocking grocery shelves or working service industry jobs will come into contact with so many people who are asymptomatic. I worry that these asymptomatic people will infect these workers purely because those people needed to continue working to pay their bills.
I worry that, the longer these stay-in-place policies continue to be ignored by large swaths of the population, the longer this will continue for all of us. And I have seen MANY ignoring the very simple ask of remaining at home and without close contact with others until things let up.
That much of this mentality is based in some form of political dissent or anti-science rhetoric is...disappointing, to say the least. I don't understand why we can't all be pro-health, even for the people with whom we most disagree. Mind-boggling.
I worry that, the longer this goes on, the more we will hear of people taking their own lives because the weight of this particular moment in history is too much for them, that the immensity of what's been placed before them is simply too great. I don't think we're far off from seeing these occurrences, but I hope I'm very, very wrong on this particular point.
I did not cry when I got the news that my father had passed. I did not cry when I saw his body at the funeral home. I did not cry when we had his military service at the National Memorial Cemetery in Phoenix. I have not cried since. And this is strange because he and I were very close.
But my trip to see him last summer was not a great one. In fact it was my least favorite visit from all the years I'd gone to see him and the rest of the family. A number of instances created this feeling, but none more so than the last moment I saw him alive. His health had already been going steadily downhill the last few years, but he was losing his balance due to poor diet, a lack of hydration, and numerous other issues too long to list here.
Per usual, he drove me to the airport on my last day there. As I was saying goodbye, I said "I'd tell you to take care of yourself, but I know you won't." He just laughed and said nope. I shook my head and went into the airport, not knowing quite how to process that other than to chalk it up to him being very him. It is clear where I get my stubbornness from.
But this is my last memory of him, him not taking his health seriously, not understanding how it affected the other people around him. I think I may be holding onto a tiny grudge because of this. I'm sure there is a bit of anger at him for this bit of selfishness, which is why I may not have processed his passing the way others may do when their parents die. Maybe this is just how I do grief, I don't know.
More than a few friends have said that perhaps a session with a therapist might help. They're probably right, but I'm sure I'm just angry at him and this is a place I've been before, though I was very young and far less able to hash through these kinds of thoughts as thoroughly then.
I hope you all remain in good spirits and in good health. I hope you are finding the weird shining diamonds that arrive in the strangest of hours during these days. I hope you're finding it easier to be kind rather than harder (though I, admittedly, continue to get angry at the willfully ignorant or the casually dismissive people who put my family at greater risk). Expect this to last for a while. Expect to have to make very serious adaptations to your daily that you haven't made yet. It's going to get weirder before it gets better, I think.
I desperately hope that I'm wrong.
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