Reflections on a life of internal exile
My days have become more reflective because of the pandemic. I have been reliving enjoyable annual events that are not happening this year to mellow out some of my worst “missing my family” days.
No doing the “wave” at the Bank for the Phillies with my son’s family, no puffed-up pride as Boy Scout Troop 36 of Roseto marches into Coca-Cola Park on Scout Day, no cheering on my grandsons Jacob and Carter as they round the bases in Slate Belt Little League with my boy coaching them, no family reunions, no nonstop activity when myKentucky grandkids, Chance and Josephine, get to crash at Nonna and Pappy’s for a few weeks each as they reunite with their Pennsylvania family and take road trips.
My daughter and her family live in Kentucky and my husband and I make the 10-hour pilgrimage every couple of months to visit. Wehave not been able to make the trip since January and this eight-month stretch has sorely tested our hearts. Two of my grandkids have surpassed mein height (not too hard when you’re only 5 feet, 1 inch tall) and my 14-year-old grandson Chance’s voice changed, all while I wasn’t there to see it or hear it. I miss my family, all of them, even the ones who are right here. I am missing them the way I miss my brother John, who passed away 28 years ago.
The virus isn’t gone and we won’t be totally safe until there’s a vaccine. Most folks are slowly transitioning to pre-COVID-19 life, hugging loved ones, returning to work, new phases of education, day-to-day chores and freedoms while still adhering to the cautions of this new environment. Some have adopted “herd immunity” or even abandoned restrictions altogether, comfortable to accept the consequences. But many of us, meincluded, are still waiting for the most basic of freedoms.
Alife-saving stem cell transplant has left mewith collateral damage — a
flawed immune system — so much of my life is on hold. Post transplant, I was confined in myhome for 100 days. I was so sick, I didn’t miss much of those 100 days. This has been a different experi
ence. I knew I could do 100 days, but totally underestimated how long this specter could last. I amon Day 170 as I write this and I have had to redefine what I ammade of. Can you imagine
not setting foot anywhere in over six months? My granddaughter Josephine showed meproducts on the Alexa they bought methat have been introduced during the pandemic, all under my radar. Some have already been discontinued.
I get angry. I get sad. Mostly, I miss my kids and don’t know how much longer I can, or want, to maintain my quarantine. With no end in sight I tell myself it’s natural to feel “beat down.” I struggle to align my head and my heart. My smarter self reminds my impatient self I would be foolhardy to jeopardize the second chance the transplant gave me by breaking my quarantine. If I knew ahead of time I might’ve said I can’t do this, much like fighting cancer twice. My oncologist says we don’t make the decision. The virus makes the decision. So, I start my day doing what’s necessary, then I do what’s possible and at the end of the day I have done the impossible. Don’t think menoble. I talk myself into it every day, like smiling to trick your brain into thinking it’s happy.
Researching happiness, I learned humans are naturally wired for survival and pay more attention to crisis than the “simple stuff” because, well, it’s too simple. We don’t welcome things like pandemics, but just the fact we can get through a crisis like this leads to happiness. Asurprising two-thirds of adults experience an increased well-being after surviving a crisis called “post traumatic growth” and it’s in our DNA.
I will slowly get my life back and the joy will be hard to put into words. Maybe the words have not been written yet. I amexpecting raw emotion when I lay eyes on myKentucky kids, take my place at a pew for Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel, attend my grandsons’ soccer matches, gathering with my huge family, walking into myparents’ home but most of all, those hugs. Those great big Italian family hugs.
Today felt like a long day. But today I amone day closer.