Thanks to the Coronavirus, I Haven’t Seen My Wife for Seven Months
But I have learned an important lesson.
My wife and I got married in July of 2019, while we were living in Vietnam. The months after were a whirlwind as I got a position at a university in China in the fall and we uprooted our lives and moved north.
In January, when the virus was little more than minor news headlines I ignored (A mysterious pneumonia in Wuhan? Who cares?), she headed back to her home country of the Philippines for what was supposed to be a month to change her last name and get new documents and a bank card.
I was supposed to return to the US for a visit on February 5th, and then we would meet back in China in late February before the spring semester started.
That was another lifetime.
In a matter of days, my city, Huizhou, went from preparing for the Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) to widespread mask usage and shutdowns. I remember my shock the first time I went to a grocery store in the mall and had to have my temperature taken to enter. Masks were not yet mandatory, and they let me in even though I did not have one. I was virtually the only unmasked person inside.
Not only did I not have a mask, I could not possibly get one. Back while I was still ignoring the virus, people here, with an ear to the ground and memories of SARS, had already bought up all of the masks.
After masks became mandatory, a kindly security guard, recognizing my plight, gave me a single-use disposable mask so I could buy food. I used it for weeks until the university was able to procure more for me.
Unlike many other Americans, I opted to stay abroad rather than return to the US. Airlines were canceling flights, the US had just enacted a travel ban on China and it seemed likely China might reciprocate. Furthermore, traveling seemed like a far greater health risk than staying put.
The shutdowns became more severe, and soon only the most essential businesses were open, with limited hours. And here, unlike in the US, essential meant essential — no hair salons, churches, government offices, or home improvement stores.
With government offices closed, processing my residence permit — a lengthy process in normal times — was delayed, and so my wife was unable to get her visa before China slammed shut its doors in March.
It would be okay, I reassured her. Just a few months and other countries would get their outbreaks it under control and she would be able to return.
But, as you may know, some countries did not get their outbreaks under control.
Gradually the restrictions here lifted. The heavy lockdown worked and the virus receded. The spring semester, while delayed, began online. As things here improved and life mostly returned to normal, I watched as my own country, the US, descended into the pit from which it has yet to emerge.
Our plan to reunite keeps getting postponed. Initially, we thought we would be together by April. Then, someone from the university told me “hopefully May.”
April and May came and went. July was floated, then August because China was supposed to re-open its border with Hong Kong in August. Now it is August, but the Philippines has experienced a resurgence, as have many other countries. They have gone back under lockdown, and my wife says face shields are now mandatory in her city (in addition to face masks, which have long been required). October, for my birthday, seems far too optimistic. December and Christmas? If we are lucky.
We call each other just about every day. She makes silly TikTok videos for me, which she forbids me from sharing. We had our first anniversary remotely, with promises of gifts we would exchange and romantic dates we would have once the travel restrictions are lifted.
I miss so many things. From how she would make coffee in the morning (cliché, maybe, but amazing), to her endless attempts to get me to do corny acting sketches with her, to hearing her talk in her sleep (sorry, honey, but it’s true).
Most of all, of course, I miss being able to touch and hold her. In many ways, each day is a theft, a loss of our time together in a life that is all too short. I remember my grandfather’s grief when my grandmother passed away, and I know, of course, one day that will be one of us. What we will not give at that moment to have seven more months together, making the most of each and every day.
Thinking of it this way is almost too much to bear, so I mostly don’t. The days are full of mundane things. It is summer, so I have no classes to teach. Instead, I have kept busy working on publishing my first novel, beginning to write on Medium, and enjoying the luxuries my wife and people in many other countries do not have, like taking short trips or going to the mall or out to eat.
I know it will likely be many more months before we will be together. The situation in the Philippines is still grim. And when there is a vaccine, poorer countries like the Philippines will be low on the list of priorities.
I should be thankful, I suppose. Between the deteriorating US-China relations and the abysmal response to the coronavirus in the US, it would be much worse if my wife was there. I doubt there will be free travel from the US to China for quite some time. (The US still has a ban on travelers from China, a policy that is transparently for political, rather than public health, reasons.) Given one-third of Americans say they will refuse a vaccine, it will likely be a long time before the US does get its outbreak under control.
For now, there is little to do but wait and look forward to the days when we can spend our short time in this life together. It is a cruel trick of human psychology that we don’t value such things as much as we should until they are taken from us. In some respects, then, I should be grateful for the travel restrictions. They have taught me how precious our time together is. It is a lesson I hope I will keep close to my heart even when these days are a distant memory and we have fallen into the familiar habits and frustrations of a more ordinary married life.
And even when my wife is interrupting my writing to get me to do a corny skit with her.
