By: Sarah Mitchell
Recently, I’ve felt an overwhelming sense of luck and gratitude for the opportunity to cherish another day with my loved ones. As news of COVID-19 unfolded, I found myself gripped by fear. The shocking statistics regarding potential fatalities were daunting, and I confided in my partner that I feared I would witness many people I knew succumb to the virus.
Sadly, that has been the reality for numerous individuals. However, for those closest to me, most have been spared. If they contracted the virus, thankfully, it did not escalate to the point of hospitalization.
About a month ago, I learned of a professional acquaintance who had been hospitalized due to COVID-19 and was not faring well. I didn’t know him well, but I felt a deep sadness as I learned of his rapid decline. I received the news of his passing while engaging in a mundane family activity—waiting in a drive-through after taking my child to their first ice skating lesson. Scrolling through social media, I saw the announcement, and my heart ached for his loved ones, especially his young grandchildren.
Later that evening, as my husband and I were getting ready for bed, he casually remarked, “Do you smell that?” When I replied that I didn’t, a sudden realization hit me. I began to open various bottles of shampoo and lotion, inhaling deeply, only to discover I had lost my sense of smell. While I wasn’t overtly frightened, I made plans to get tested for COVID-19 first thing in the morning.
As someone who often grapples with anxiety, my mind raced with thoughts of what I needed to do to prepare in the event my health took a turn for the worse. I had some things in order, but others were left unchecked. The thought of needing to communicate certain information in case I didn’t make it weighed heavily on me.
Memories of my mother, who passed away from cancer, flooded my mind. She was not much older than I am now when she faced her illness. I wished I had been emotionally equipped to discuss her fears and experiences, as I had never heard firsthand the struggles of someone facing the end of life.
Fortunately, my COVID-19 test came back positive, but I experienced mild symptoms and managed to work from home while quarantined with my family.
A week later, a college friend posted about being hospitalized with COVID-19, but he seemed to be holding on. However, his posts quickly grew alarming as he expressed a fear of dying. The next morning, I learned from his relative that he had passed away. It was a sobering reminder of the fragility of life, especially as we are both in our late 40s and faced the same illness.
His passing occurred just days before Easter, a significant time in my faith as a practicing Catholic. It made me ponder the reality that I survived while he did not. In a spiritual sense, it felt as if I had been granted more time, prompting me to reflect on how I would utilize that time.
A few days after my friend’s death, I received a call from an unknown number, which turned out to be a colleague of my therapist. I sensed something was wrong, and upon returning the call, I learned that my therapist had unexpectedly passed away. This news was deeply shocking, as I had shared so much of my life with him, despite knowing little about him in return.
As a fellow therapist, I understood the necessary boundaries in our profession, but I felt a profound loss. He was also an instructor at an institute where I was taking courses, and his absence would surely be felt by many.
These experiences incited fears about my own mortality. I am a wife and mother, and the thought of what my family would endure if I were no longer here is a heavy burden. I often find myself ruminating on the possibility of losing my child or husband, especially following the postpartum anxiety I faced after my son was born.
There are no definitive answers to the “What if?” questions that plague our minds. The uncertainty can be gut-wrenching. Unlike simpler concerns, such as worrying about a ruined dinner, these thoughts carry no clear solutions.
My concerns surrounding loss have only intensified since becoming a mother. The responsibility of caring for a child, who cannot fend for themselves, is immense. Our energies are devoted to ensuring they are fed, safe, and emotionally nurtured.
Perhaps the path to coping with the reality of life’s uncertainties lies in preparing as best we can for the inevitable. This involves putting practical measures in place to ensure our families are cared for and having difficult discussions about the fears we often avoid.
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Summary:
In the wake of COVID-19, the author reflects on the fragility of life and the deep gratitude felt for still being with family. She shares personal experiences of loss and fear, particularly in light of the pandemic, and the thoughts that arise about mortality. The narrative emphasizes the importance of preparing for the inevitable and having difficult conversations about life and loss.
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