One day, hopefully soon, the worst of the pandemic will be behind us and we will truly be on the other side of Covid. But this is not about that longed-for time; it is a personal story of contracting Covid and moving past it.
On Christmas Eve, my wife experienced severe abdominal pain for the fourth time in several months. I took her to the Emergency Room at a local hospital where we waited for several hours. At home, we left two daughters, one of whom was pregnant, their husbands, two grandsons and my special needs brother. Earlier in the day, my wife visited her 96-year-old mother in an assisted living facility. After several tests, my wife was diagnosed with gall bladder issues, but nothing requiring immediate surgery. As a matter of routine the hospital administered a Covid test to her. We found out late that night it was positive.
Our daughter who lives locally had already gone home and taken my brother to his group home. My daughter from out of town and her husband made the decision to leave on the off chance they had not contracted Covid. They left at 11:30 for a four-hour drive home. My wife and I arrived home at 12:30 to a cold and silent house.
Christmas was obviously very different from what we planned. Instead of opening presents with toddlers, and then traveling to spend the week after Christmas with our third daughter and her family, we sat in an empty house with no symptoms other than a cough to show Covid was our uninvited guest. We built fires and played Christmas carols for two days, then other symptoms began to show. Loss of smell and taste, congestion, and exhaustion. Ultimately, all ten members of our family that were in contact on Christmas Eve contracted Covid. There were a few fevers, but no major symptoms. We were especially thankful that our high risk folks seemed to cope well: a pregnant daughter, an older special needs brother, and an elderly mother. We were grateful that we dealt with relatively mild symptoms.
While my mother-in-law initially seemed to cope with the disease, she soon developed pneumonia, was admitted to the hospital and died on January 14th with my wife by her side. We were grateful that she could be with her mother.
On January 23rd, our daughter gave birth, three weeks early, to a 9-pound baby boy. We were grateful that both mother and baby were healthy and strong.
On January 25th, my wife kept a doctor’s appointment regarding the torn ligaments in her shoulder. Shots and treatments had done nothing to relieve her pain so the doctor ordered surgery and soon. She went under the knife on the 28th to repair the shoulder and has been living in a sling 24-7 until the last few days. We were grateful that the problem was addressed and healing could begin.
Last week we took advantage of the holiday weekend and drove north to visit the daughter who fled in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, and the daughter we were not able to see the week after Christmas. We have encountered snow and ice storms and stunningly cold weather (especially for Florida people), but we have spent treasured time with daughters and grandkids and sons-in-law, who were at first tolerated (because grandkids), but now are loved. We were grateful to have this opportunity to connect.
As rough as 2020 has been for so many, our family jumped on a roller coaster from Christmas into February, 2021. We have no idea which of us first contracted Covid. We each played the waiting game for Covid test results, then the waiting game to see how bad it would become. Would it lead to severe illness, or even death, for any of us? Sadly, it did for one, although we still rejoice in the long and rich life that she led and that she is now in her true home. Due to Covid and travel issues, we chose not to hold a service for her, but will inter her with her husband at Arlington National Cemetery sometime later this year.
What’s the upshot of this roller coaster ride? Illness comes, plans change, and death is inevitable, although its timing is often uncertain. In the grieving there was joy for a life well lived and the grace not to die alone (my mother-in-law’s greatest fear). In the midst of joy, there was grieving for a new baby who would not meet his Great Granny and will have to wait for some period of time to meet the rest of his family. In all of this, God was present and God was sovereign.
In the midst of suffering, we felt gratitude. It did not mean that we were not angry or hurt or sorrowful, but it did mean that we trusted God’s word when He says He causes “all things to work together for good to those that love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”(Romans 8:28) Too often, that verse of scripture morphs into “everything happens for a reason.” That is true – there is a reason for everything; the principle of cause and effect tells us that. But the verse assures us that God is in control; that even the things we perceive as bad and through which we suffer will ultimately result in good because we believe. This is not a feel-good verse that says everything will work out. This is a verse that says there will be problems and pain and suffering, but believers, Christians, can trust God to work it out for good.
So what’s the good in this roller coaster ride? Nine of us survived in good health. A baby was born. A rich life was celebrated and sweet memories were, and will be, shared. A shoulder will heal. And we are stronger because we went through these things and are on the other side with our faith intact, in fact, even more deeply rooted in the love and promises of God. I cannot predict what else will happen in 2021 (although we do have another grandbaby coming in April), but I can predict with absolute certainty that God will not be surprised, that He will hold believers firmly in His hand, and that He will extend His grace to those who would accept it. And none of that has changed on the other side of Covid.
