COVID Chronicles Part 3: Breaking points, bubbles and the grieving process

It’s been a little over a month since my last post and update. It has mostly remained the same, aside from a few tragic events. But, for me, personally, the day in and out has remained relatively the same - get up, workout, eat, take Gertie for a walk, work, eat, go to bed. It’s a pretty mundane existence, if I may say so myself - but a safe and healthy one!

But things changed last Wednesday. I woke up to snow falling violently to the ground. Sure, it was beautiful, but it was the middle of May - not cool! This led to a bit of a mental breaking point for me. In a single moment, I didn’t know if we’d gone back in time or forward. Had I just dreamt the last 9 weeks, or was it actually December, and my concept of time has been dramatically lost?

Thankfully (sort of) neither of those scenarios were true. No time travel had occurred, but it didn’t ease the frustration of having to deal with snow this late into the year. And in confronting that, a lot of despair, uncontrollable tears, and even some time in the fetal position questioning all of my life choices had taken place.

Soon into the afternoon, the sun was bright and shining, the snow had melted, and life had mostly restored to this newfound routine.

I know many have been struggling in this process of isolation. I have been too. But overall, I’ve been okay with my circumstances, because I’m mostly happy to be on my own. It does get lonely, though, particularly when people around me complain about looking forward to seeing other people, when I, a single human living solo, sees NO ONE.

Last Wednesday was probably the most hopeless I have felt in the 9 weeks of isolation, so far. The recent tragedies that took place in and/or related to my province were sad, but I am able to distance myself from them for a number of reasons. But snow in May, fears of “the return to normal” and feeling like I would never see anyone again all hit me like one massive emotional brick. I know that things will ease up, and I will be around groups of loved ones again. I also know how hard it can be to remain rational when you’re alone with your thoughts 24/7.

But then Friday happened, and our illustrious Premier and Chief Medical Officer announced an easement in the Provincial restrictions - the introduction of Bubbles. These bubbles are a co-mingling of two households, with a specific directive that it be immediate family. I don’t know who dictates what “immediate family consists of” but I seriously considered choosing one of my chosen family pods!

To my surprise, my brother was on board to bubble with me, and, on Saturday evening I got to hug him for the first time in 60 days. It felt so good to interact with someone other than myself and to get a few hugs in. We went for a beautiful nature walk and then had a much needed BBQ (his partner also gave me a haircut!).

Beautiful views on a lovely summer-like evening hike in Wolfville, Nova Scotia!

It was amazing how normal that visit felt. It was like no time had passed and that I hadn’t been sequestered to my house for 2 months. I returned home feeling light in heart and mind (not so much body - I stuffed a lot of food in my mouth!).

But that brings me to tomorrow - the 7-year Death Day. Usually I take the day off, but this year, I was too late requesting the time and a few work obligations were scheduled. If it had been any other year, I would have been upset by this change in routine. This year, however, everyday is the same, so who knows if tomorrow actually is May 20th!

I imagine it will still be a difficult day. I imagine I will continue to have moments of tears following the recount of memories with that beautiful soul.

Nothing is the same anymore - and truly, I’m not sure it should be. I don’t mean this from the perspective of how I handle my loss, but in the grand scheme of things. We live in a mighty dysfunctional world. It doesn’t work. There appear to be pockets of hope, when reading and seeing families taking time to slow down and connect again. When I see that items like flour and yeast are unavailable - because people are starting to cook for themselves again! When people are more excited to get back to their favourite park, than they are to peruse a shop in the mall. There is hope that we can make a positive way forward, instead of going backwards, when the pandemic has passed. There is hope. There has to be. Otherwise, what are we isolating for?

- the Orange Canadian