3 Lessons the Cornavirus Taught Me

(St. Patrick’s Cathedral- Dublin, Ireland)

A cat jumps down from the windowsill and lovingly brushes against the legs of her owner, standing at the counter making tea. The woman turned away from the counter. Holding her mug, she headed out of the kitchen and gently called for the cat to follow. Her husband's betrayal, shortly before the coronavirus took hold, left her divorced and childless amid social isolation orders. She opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Her furry companion trailed close under her feet. Taking a sip of her tea, she settled onto the porch swing to people watch. After her business was shut down, there wasn't much else to do. A barking dog caught her attention down the sidewalk. The dog belonged to a mother she often sees walking past with her toddler. She always liked to watch them walk past and imagine a life like that. A life with a husband and a baby to fill the empty house that currently imprisoned her. A life with a family of her own. She watched them, hoping the mother knew how lucky she was. The mother didn't seem to notice the joy in her son's face as he squealed at the dog. The mother was desperately trying to pull her dog along past the house with a cat. The woman smiled at them and gave the mother a friendly wave from the porch to let her know the dog did not bother her. 

"Morning!" the mother shouted after the woman on the porch as she dragged her crazed dog past the house. She longed to stay and have a friendly chat with the stranger. Any adult interaction was interaction all the same. In the wake of losing both parents to the coronavirus, she desperately wanted someone to talk to aside from her toddler. As a doctor, her husband was hardly home. When he did come home, he kept his distance for their protection. You can never be too cautious in these times. A lesson learned the hard way when her parents visited from out of state and left infected. The lesson cost them their lives. Another wave of grief washed over her, so she looked down at her sweet son's face to encourage a smile on her own. His eyes were bright as he called after their dog. "Hey buddy," she said to him, wiping the only tear she let through from her face, "Let's call Daddy and see when he'll be home."

The doctor looked down at his smartwatch at the incoming call. Then, he looked up at his patient and smiled. His condition is severe, but the man's positive attitude made him the doctor's favorite patient. "Well, we're all set here." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and said, "I should take this; it's the wife."
The man in the hospital bed smiled back, and with a laugh, he said, "Oh yeah! You don't want to ignore the wife."

The doctor shook his head and said, "She usually just wants to know when I'm coming home."

As the patient watched the doctor exit the room, his smiling eyes turned sad at the thought of his own wife and kids. He wished he could go home to his family, the family who wasn't allowed to visit him. The family he likely would not see again. Tomorrow morning, he was scheduled to be sedated and intubated. "When" he would be woken and extubated wasn't the question anymore; it was "if." He picked up his phone to call his wife and kids so that he could hear their voice, and they could hear his. 

As humans, we are social beings. We not only thrive on interaction, but we also depend on it to get us through difficult times. 

Yet so many people have been thrown into impossibly painful situations, and we are instructed to isolate ourselves. 

How could we have known we would end up in a time when technology was the only way to stay connected? Who would have thought we'd be longing to get back to our jobs, meetings, the gym, or the kids' activities? Holiday gatherings with the family that drive us crazy now seem so comforting. The stories above, unfortunately, were all inspired by true stories. While I modified them to fit into one flowing narrative, these stories are real. 

I want to take a moment from marital problems and child-rearing to reflect on three critical life lessons this pandemic has taught me. 

1) Everyone has their cross to bear. Whenever I feel down about the pandemic we are living in, I remind myself of what I have. I think of the people in these stories and how they each are envious of what someone else but that they are missing what they have. I admit to being jealous of the people who can work from home to not lose any income. When in reality, I've been given the precious gift of one-on-one time with my son. My family might be driving me up a wall some days and I long for the peace of an empty house. It's only natural when you're stuck in a house together. But then I realize how lonely those people might be and how fortunate I am to be surrounded by my little family in this time. Yes, I have my struggles with this pandemic, and it's true misery is not a competition. Yet, instead of looking at our struggles, why don't we put more energy into soaking in all we have. 

2) He is always with us. I find it an ironic time of year for all of this to be happening. For those of the Catholic faith, we are in the middle of the Lent season. Lent is supposed to be a time without Jesus as he was wandering the desert for 40 days and 40 nights. Shortly after, He suffers death only to rise again. In times as dark and confusing as these, we are tempted to question where He is now? Maybe this is our time in the desert. It would be unlikely for the shutdown to end after 40 days, but the meaning remains the same. Jesus has not forsaken us. He is always with us, and He will come in His time. Jesus will bring life from death. He will bring light into our darkness. 

In the meantime, it is important for us to not lose faith in Jesus but rather to turn to Him. Below is a prayer I found in my church paper and I say it every night. I feel that it sums up every concern and I can go to bed each night knowing this is in His hands. If anyone would like to join me, it is as follows:

A Prayer In Response to the Coronavirus Outbreak and All Illness

Lord Jesus, in our time of need, we bring our fears and concerns to you in faith. We are grateful for your closeness to us as we confront the adversity of the coronavirus and all illnesses as they affect those we love and countless others. Jesus, tend to those who are suffering at this time, especially the elderly and the weak. Provide every necessary strength to our doctors, nurses, health care assistance, and all those who are working to respond to this crisis. Jesus, give us the wisdom of the Holy Spirit to face this challenge. Inspire each of us to do whatever is necessary to confront the spread of this disease. Help us to carry this cross with courage and to walk with the sick with compassion. Give knowledge to our scientist. Keep our families in your care. Heal the sick. Protect the healthy. Console the fearful. Comfort those who are isolated. Give us hope. Give us life. Jesus, the divine physician, we trust in you. Mary, comfort of God’s children, pray for us. St. Bernadine of Siena, patron of those with illnesses of the lungs, Pray for us. St. Albert the Great, patron of scientist, Pray for us. We make our prayer to you this day, Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Amen.

-Bishop Edward C. Malesci

3)Never forget. Before this virus took hold, my little family used to go to my parents' house every Sunday night. It was a tradition we started before marriage when I still lived at home. Sundays were my night to cook, so my now-husband came over, and we all had dinner together. Afterwards, we would get ice cream or make popcorn and watch some TV while chit-chatting in the living room. It was something so simple and routine. One thing I miss the most about having to stay away from my parents are those simple Sunday night dinners. 

When the time comes, and all of this clears, we can never forget the lessons we are learning now. As we return to our jobs and responsibility, we have to try our hardest not to slip right back into the blind humans we were before. I want to embrace Sunday dinners with my parents without fear of them getting sick. My life before this was nothing outside the ordinary, but it was beautiful in unique ways. I see that now, and I miss it. Whatever comes in the wake of this pandemic, remember to relish in the beauty of ordinary life.