The COVID-19 pandemic has left us all in grief wrapped in fear.
I went through some stages of grief – denial, bargaining,
even acceptance in sporadic spurts. And then I landed in the frenzy of a
relentless need to do something. Fortunate
for me, I work at a place that does not cower in the face of a crisis. As soon as
the city shutdown, we mobilized to transform our services – giving daily
takeaway meals, doing community check-ins, putting together resources, and
figuring out how to do more and more to respond to the needs of people who
already had very little to begin with, and are the most vulnerable in this
pandemic. So we put on our gloves, and we smile behind our masks as we hand out
meals. We look for familiar faces who used to come to our weekly drop-ins to
see if they’re doing okay.
In this work, I forget myself and reject my fears. It
is allowing me to hold on to the image I have of myself even though the world
has changed so much.
But I have stopped hugging my child. When I come home from work,
I scrub myself purple, I wash my clothes in scalding water. I wipe all the
surfaces I have touched. And still I cannot make myself hug her.
I am not afraid of death. My resilience arrogance runs high. My acceptance of death as an absolute reality of this dimension remains unshaken.
I am not afraid of being isolated. My solitude is my
treasure, and my friends always, always there for me.
I am so privileged and fortunate to feel anything but
gratitude even during these times.
But I am so afraid of living in a world where I don’t hug my
child anymore.
xxx
PS: The gloves used in this image will not be wasted <3
