"From the very depth of my being, I challenge the right of any man or any group of men, in business or in government, to tell a fellow human being that he or she is expendable." - Jimmy Reid
As a large population, we have been in isolation for more than a month now. Tomorrow will mark two months for me. It would have been hard to imagine this even a month before it happened. It is an interesting life experience for us all though we each have reacted, coped or broken down in our own way. Some of my normally gregarious friends have withdrawn into almost total silence. Others who are more reserved are driven to forge new ways of becoming more connected. I've learned to embrace technology, finally uncovering my laptop camera so I can look at friends and family while we speak. I've spent hours looking for the gifts in the experience and I've plunged into activities, painting and baking, canning, knitting and beading. And then there are the other days when I lay in my bed in the early morning hours, trying to decide if there is a reason to get up. There are more of those days lately. Today is a particularly hard day, May 9 and it is snowing. There will be no outdoor distanced tea with my neighbour, no walk in the spring sunshine. Tomorrow is Mother's Day. My mom is gone and I don't know if I will see my son. I'm sad.
I'm having trouble seeing the light at the end of this tunnel. As things begin to return to some form of normalcy in much of the world, I wonder if that will ever happen for me. Will I ever be able to travel again, attend the theatre, ride on the subway, shop for groceries or hug my sisters? Will there be dinner parties at my table, coffee shop catch up dates with the girls, meetings with clients? Or am I done, destined to live life at a distance?
I understand the urgency so many people are feeling to throw the doors wide open and go forward with life. It's pretty tough to choose between feeding your family and keeping them and yourself from a virus that is unlikely to kill you, even if you get it. I don't blame them. Under other circumstances I might feel the same way. There are powerful people who are promoting the position that it is time to throw caution to the wind. Whatever deaths occur will likely be mainly in the population that is old or already medically vulnerable. Casualties of war. Lives that are expendable. Those who are already taking more out of the health care system than they are putting in. Me.
I am one of their expendable. I'm almost 65. I have heart disease. I am immune compromised. It is irrelevant that I have spent my life trying to leave a legacy of beauty and kindness. I am not their mother, their sister, their wife or their friend. They won't think of me on Christmas Eve or Mother's Day. I understand it but I can't pretend it doesn't hurt.
