We Are In This Together
“We are related to each other. By taking care of you, I take care of myself. By taking care of myself, I take care of you. Happiness and safety are not individual matters.”
The sky was still dark when I woke up this morning to pull the quilt, hanging off the end of the bed, over the two of us. I knew by the chill in the air that the temperature must have dipped below freezing during the night. And, as I watched the brilliant orange sunrise, I marvelled at the frost sparkling on the rooftops, looking very much like a light dusting of snow. Christmas hangs in the air this morning, as I enjoy my morning coffee and a piece of gevulde speculaas, one of my favourite Dutch treats of the season.
Yesterday, I dug the boxes of Christmas decorations out from under the stairs. My husband drove to our local nursery and selected a lovely noble fir, branches evenly spaced, perfect for hanging decorations. The tree is much smaller than ones we have had in previous years, as it will only be the two of us this year.
We went through the elaborate and frustrating process of positioning the tree in its stand. Then, while my husband strung lights in the tree, I pulled out the vacuum and followed the path of needles from the front door, up the stairs, and into the living room. This is the first year, other than 2011, when our girls were on a working holiday in New Zealand, that we have set up and decorated the tree alone.
Earlier this week, our medical health officer informed us that the social restrictions imposed back in November would continue into January. We were told that we would not be able to get together with anyone, other than those we live with, to celebrate the holidays. We cannot even get together in backyards, at parks, or in restaurants. The sweeping measures put into place in mid-November have not resulted in a significant drop in COVID-19 cases. The daily number of deaths are now setting record highs.
Many of us don’t know anyone who has had COVID-19, although we all know at least one person who has been exposed. While we may be taking all precautions, this pandemic still feels slightly removed from our daily lives. This latest announcement, while expected, will have families struggling with doing the right thing. The holidays are steeped in tradition, and for most of us, coming together as a family is the foundation of these traditions.
Both my girls called me immediately after hearing the announcement. We’ve been so careful, our family bubble is so small – they can’t mean us! All the stages of grief flashed by in the next few hours – denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. We know we could probably get together, safely, and no one would be the wiser. But we’re not going to do it.
I’m not opening this up to a debate as to what may be right and wrong, and exceptions to the rules. I can only share with you why it is important to me to adhere as closely as I can to the imposed restrictions.
I am someone whose heart breaks at all the misery and heartache in the world. Hundreds of children have just been reported missing after an armed attack on their secondary school in Nigeria. Children have been disappearing from refugee camps, sold into slavery and sex trafficking. And thousands of people are dying alone from COVID-19. I don’t know these people. Their lives are as removed from mine, as this pandemic continues to be. And yet, I feel inexplicably connected to all these people.
I recognize that their situation could be my lived reality. I have only been saved because of a twist of fate. I have been gifted a life that so far, knock wood, has provided comfort and security, and the knowledge that one day soon I can spend time with my girls and friends again.
And so, I don’t see people beyond my circle as strangers; I see them as part of a larger community that I belong to. If sacrificing our family Christmas means that we can flatten the COVID-19 curve and possibly stop people from dying then it’s a no-brainer.
I feel a bit holier-than-thou writing this, and I don’t mean to be! I know most of my friends feel the same. I am aware that this decision is easier for me than some because my girls live close by and we can still enjoy social distance visits. And frankly, being an introvert, I must also admit that I feel a twinge of relief that I won’t have to cope with the busy-ness and stresses of the holidays.
Despite this being an obvious decision on our part, I thought that I would still feel some anger and resentment – but I don’t. On this glorious, sunny morning in our beautifully decorated house, my family and friends only a phone call away, I feel deep gratitude. I am grateful to be living a life that allows for this decision to be an easy one for me to make. I know not everyone has that luxury. We are in this together. And I know we are all making the best decisions we can for those we love, near and far.