Guest Post: My COVID Caretakers

 As I said in my last post, I caught the 'vid up in Idaho over the holidays.  Since I ended up spending the better part of a month with the Idaho Crecelii, I thought a guest post was in order.  Please enjoy, courtesy of M&M.

We said goodbye and happy new year to Anne in December 2019 in Glade Park, CO and didn't get to see her for another whole year. Wait, longer than that -- 20 months? Winter in Glade Park 2019 to Summer in Glade Park in 2021. And in between those Dirty Boot reunions, gratefulness was hard to come by. There was just too much. Anne's cancer diagnosis, a pandemic, isolation, violence, ineptitude, dread. So our absence from family last year made New Year 2022 something we could not wait for. We had these Big Plans -- skiing, botanical gardens, Christmas lights, card games, trivia, and a week in the woods with meals around the same table as our people. Snow for days was in the forecast. And who would have thought that, after 20+ months of pandemic living, one of our best gifts would be a bonus week with Anne after she tested positive for COVID on New Year's Day? Stupid. Fucking. Covid.

Anne liked to tease us that she was our “fourth child” while she isolated in our office/guest room/exercise space. But the truth is, we were lucky to be able to care for her. Lucky to witness first-hand how Anne handled getting (Stupid. Fucking.) Covid with grace and calm and perspective. Lucky to overhear her contributing to her work over Zoom meetings. Lucky to absorb her trivia voice all the way down the hall with the door shut. Lucky that I got to vent and complain about all the things I usually get to vent and complain about over text with Anne, but now in person through a glass door with hand waving and eye rolls. Lucky that I got to do one of my most fulfilling things – disinfecting all the spaces. (Lysol helps me to feel in control and I was this way pre-pandemic. It’s fine.) Lucky that our kids got to see that this pandemic has the potential to bring our family closer and that all experiences have something to teach us, and to give us something to be grateful for.

And we just can’t stop feeling grateful about how it all turned out. Grateful that Anne’s symptoms were limited to congestion and a 12-ish hour fever. Grateful for vaccines and boosters. Grateful that our love language (food, complaining, and dancing) were comforting to her. Grateful that even one more week in hell (where we live) will sit in our memories with fondness and not fear or worry. Love you, Anne. Come back to Idaho soon and we'll do more complaining and dancing and eating but with less disinfecting and nose-swabbing.