A Terrible Loss, a Devastating Virus, and a Beautiful New Life
Our Survival Depends on Each Other
My grandson was born two weeks ago. My daughter called from the hospital as she was being admitted and informed me that Cedars Sinai had revised their policy at 4:30 that afternoon. As a result, only the patient’s spouse would be allowed into the hospital. The fear of the spread of the Coronavirus had reached a point that the hospital administration felt it was prudent to bar visitors in the waiting room so as to limit the spread of the virus.
My daughter was distraught and worried that I would be devastated by not being able to be one of the first people to see and hold the baby.I told her that I would rather wait at home and talk her through her road to full dilation rather than sitting in a room with a dozen people coughing and sharing their germs.
The truth was that my daughter had confessed many weeks earlier that when she first sees her baby her thoughts will be with her dad, who died 8 months ago. When everyone would be rejoicing in the room after the delivery, she would be reminded that her dad was not there. I was grateful that, the universe unfolding as it should, assured that my husband’s absence would not be pronounced because none of us were there.
The past couple of weeks have been filled with fear, despair and loneliness. I am reminded after my loss last year, that two people can keep each other sane, can give support, love and hope, especially during a crisis of this magnitude, but I am alone.
For most of my life, I measured all my experiences to those of my parents whom survived the Holocaust. No matter how difficult the journey, it never could compare to what my parents endured. It was frustrating to always feel unworthy. The irony is that at this time of my life I am emboldened by my parents. They were in isolation and incarcerated for five years. They were confined to small quarters and never knew from day to day, whether they would live or die. I am sequestered in my home in California and when I care to act, I have the freedom to chart my own path of survival and well being.
In spite of all our best efforts, the virus has invaded the bodies of those we love. My niece’s husband, who has been treated in the intensive care unit in Pennsylvania for symptoms of Coronavirus, has improved. He had all the classic symptoms: fever, shortness of breath and dry cough. A few hours after his condition deteriorated dramatically he was given the two drugs which are being tried on critically ill patients. His fever broke a couple of days later. His doctors are optimistic for his recovery but stress that it will be slow but steady.
A good friend, who lives in Carmel and recently moved her parents to an assisted living facility in upstate New York learned that her father contracted the virus. He passed away within 48 hours. She was unable to fly to New York and attend his funeral.
I used to wake up at night in a sweat because I had dreamt that my father had passed away and there was a massive snow storm in Montreal which kept me from flying back and attending his funeral. Now, I worry that I will not be able to attend his unveiling. I lay awake at night wondering what it would have been like to care for my husband in the midst of this pandemic. I am picking out his gravestone which will be placed in July.
I embrace every moment of my grandson’s new life through photos, videos, teleconferencing and FaceTime. I struggle to come to terms with the fact that since being with him on the eighth day during his Bris, I may not get to hold him for many weeks. Worse, I am unable to support and comfort his mother and father as they adjust to being new parents.
Will our lives ever be the same? Perhaps not. But the fact that we have come to appreciate how our survival depends on each other may help us appreciate social interactions, being part of a community, helping each other through adversity, and embracing the small wonders of our lives.
