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Letters written to problems, not people – by everyday champions, like you.
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an older woman riding public transit, while looking out the window; which reflects the author's tone in her letter to CO-VID

Dear CO-VID

I had no idea as to the impact you would have at this transition point in my life.  Prior to your arrival, I had already sold my house and private practice, making a conscious decision to leave my home of 41 years and to retire to a new city and state.   I had done this only one other time in my life – when I moved away from my family of origin at the age of 26 to settle in an unknown city in Florida. At that time, though, I was young, newly graduated and in search of change and new beginnings.

I had been thinking about retirement for years; so when the opportunity to help care for my first grandchild was offered, I jumped at the chance. I had waited a long time to be “Nonna” and felt certain that I would have opportunities to meet people with volunteer and recreational activities available in the large, exciting city where my son had elected to grow a family.  Although I recognized that the transition would be a difficult one, I knew that I could manage. After all, I would have the support of my son and his wife, a new life that I could help to develop, and the blessings of my other two adult children. Not to mention, my new home was only five hours from my old one; so the option to return to familiarity wasn’t off of the table entirely.

Then you came along, CO-VID, and imposed a whole new reality for me to navigate.   Initially, you created conflict over when and how I was going to get from point A to point B.  I worried whether my house would close in sale, as all businesses were slowing down or being shuttered all together.  I worried whether I would be able to mobilize a truck to move me across state lines, as state officials issued orders to shelter in place. I went about packing my home – alone -as “social distancing” was emphasized and with this reality coming into play, I worried about bringing together friends to help me load the truck.  Saying goodbye to my community happened virtually, because of you, as most did not want to leave their homes for fear of coming into contact with you directly. My youngest son drove to and from to move me, but I worried throughout about his safety. How best to get him back to his home, after the mission was made.

It has been a month, now, since I arrived in this new city and to a reality very different from the one that I had envisioned. Under your rule, my son is expected to work 15-hour days, 6-7 days a week. My daughter-in-law will not be going back to work in the foreseeable future, and therefore has limited need for my assistance.  The opportunity to meet new people has seemingly disappeared due to the closure of all spaces that allowed for gatherings and the harsh judgments surrounding the sharing space for social interactions.  Although I am healthy, I am now also considered ‘high risk’ given my age alone. The opportunity to go shopping for essentials brings with it increased risk, so even a quick trip to the store has been taken from my table…

So, there you have it, CO-VID.  I am now in a new state and city with very limited supports, a lack of opportunity to interact in real time with people, and very little meaningful work (e.g. being a caregiver to my granddaughter or a volunteer to youth and animals).  All of this when only one month ago, I was a valued community professional helping children and families; I had an extensive support system of friends; and a vast knowledge of local resources.  I have none of that now, thanks to you!

I cannot lie.  While I have always been an optimist and fiercely independent, I find myself crying whenever I allow myself to think too long of what had been my past reality and what is to be my new reality. For you see, CO-VID, there is no return to what had been for the anticipated future.  Experts now tell us that reopening society will be a long process, as your nature is to lingerto stick around, while continuing to make some of us sick if we fail to maintain some form of social distance. The opportunity for new, meaningful live-interaction and for my life’s work will continue to be limited.

With all of this in mind, I am trying to open-up to new opportunities in the virtual world, but it’s particularly difficult for someone like me, who likes to connect with others in real time and in the context of community. But, I will continue to try. I take joy in visiting with my granddaughter each day.  I am cultivating my health and wellness by walking daily, eating healthier, and celebrating unexpected weight-loss, which had eluded me in my past.  I am engaging in positive self-talk whenever I think to, which includes thinking gratefully about all I have compared to countless others.  All of this is purposeful, but hard.

CO-VID, I will not let you defeat me, but I have to admit your arrival has been one of the biggest challenges in my life to date.  I can only hope, now, that for me, for those I care about, and for the sake of our collective culture, your interruption results in positive growth. But then again, I’m just a single senior-lady trying to adjust to a new and very different reality…

Female, Age 66
‘High Risk’ per ‘Old Age’, but otherwise ‘Healthy’ pending Quarantine

a man in isolation looks out of his window during the COVID quarantine as discussed in the corresponding letter

Dear COVID-19 (or Dear Isolation)

Can I write to you if I don’t believe to have contracted you? Like the overwhelming majority of folks – I think – I’m without your diagnosis but still living under your rule. I’m social, and I’m impatient – two rough traits to have at the moment when we’ve been asked to isolate for an undetermined period of time.  I feel like a fraud – writing to complain about how a sickness that I don’t have and no one I know has, is hurting me; when everyone is living under a lot of the same circumstances. Some – even worse off than I.  And yet, being isolated really hurts!  Especially when you live alone… I feel like the only person who doesn’t have anyone to go home to.  I feel so alone!

I barely see my parents – only from a distance, now, and only with a mask and gloves on.  It feels sterile and weird and off-putting.  I’d almost rather not go to see them at all this way… I haven’t really seen my partner, who has a ‘high risk’ condition; nor have I seen much of my friends, who have quarantined with their small family units. I haven’t seen those I feel closest to in almost a month, now, and the light at the end of the tunnel is still barely there.

I haven’t been to the gym in just as long – I feel as though a physical part of me is slipping-away, which terrifies me in turn.  I know I’m considered “lucky” because I’ve got access to a bicycle – a great way to move my body in this new age of social distancing! The weather isn’t cooperating consistently, though, and on my rides I see families’ interacting on a close physical basis and it reminds me of what I miss most.  I miss physical touch. I miss physical proximity!  I miss feeling connected and a part of some sort of tribe…

I am able to interact with others to some extent and in relatively close proximity. I see the people I work with, because I’m considered ‘essential’. I guess that means I should count myself – again – as “lucky”.  Many people have found themselves without jobs because of you…  I’m a tenuous part of the medical supply chain – it seems silly that I show-up in person during this pandemic, but I don’t have much of a choice and would certainly be worse off without some place to be and something to do on a routine basis.  Even if my days are being cut short and my task list – barely there… These days, I spend more time with my dog than I ever have before; and I’m thrilled to have a companion in him, even if he doesn’t understand what’s happening and barely responds to the conversations I strike-up. If only my job felt more productive and my dog – able to talk back…

I’m told now that I’m supposed to “look at the positives”, but that doesn’t feel right because it requires that I ignore the very elements that make me feel human and are very much gone.  I’m not sure there’s anything good in this, even though I’d like there to be.  I have had some realizations. The isolation highlights in my mind what I miss the most and what I’m grateful to still have: Routine and structure, purpose and function, physical connection to those I love…  Being able to spontaneously go out is important to me, too.  I know that eventually, things will go back to some sense of normality.  I can’t wait to travel a bit when they do – to reconnect with people that matter to me and with a sense of personal freedom, as I do.  Maybe reminding myself of what I do have in normal times (before you, COVID-19, turned the world on its head); is key.  Perhaps I can hold that which I took for granted initially – out in front of me now, like a light. Maybe that’s what I need to do to keep myself moving along this lonely, obscure tunnel…

But, right now, life under your rule just sucks.

​Male, Age 38
Healthy but Under Quarantine…

A graphic RX template with request for use of narrative medicine to cope with the COVID pandemic.

Okay, Corona (a Call for Submissions)

No doubt, you are one powerful creature. You managed to cage an entire country in only a few weeks time! You are a force to be reckoned with & yet, I’ve been wrestling with this letter to you for weeks…. I have so much to say to you – & about you – it literally hurts! But, this project really isn’t about me. It’s about a bridge. About bridging the gaps that prevent us from reaching our greatest potential – as individuals AND as pack mates.

Talking to you,COVID-19, helps. It helps me to peel back the layers, so as to maintain perspective; but I’m stuck – too many questions unanswered! Tell me: Have you come for a reason? A force of nature – here & now – to remind us of our place on this planet? Of natural order, itself?? Are you as dangerous as you seem? To what degree shall we work to prevent your transmission & to what end shall our lives remain on hold??

Trying to make sense of the uncertainty & the unknown, I wonder:Is this a test? A trap, maybe? Are you asking that we look closer at our very own (perhaps faulty) neurological wiring? FIGHT, FLIGHT or FREEZE; pull TOGETHER or fall APART – do you know it’s in our DNA?? To what degree must we scramble to ensure, now, that we have ‘enough’? Have done ‘enough’?? Asked to keep a safe “social distance” & to evaluate our own risk factors, many worry along a similar thread: What is it that I truly need, now? Who is it that I can earnestly trust? Am I to care for others? Will others care for me??

Perhaps this is – instead – a wish granted. Is this a long sought-after opportunity for respite? The ultimate opportunity for self- & community-care?? With space & time to consider, what is it that I truly long for now that so many things have been placed on hold? Have I managed any sort of newfound appreciation in life? Newfound respect?? Am I called to tie up ‘loose ends’? To repair discord in my relationships?? When the day is done – & if you come for me – will I still wonder about my worth? Am I ‘enough’…?!?

In moments like this, as a counselor & a coach, I am reminded of the gift that is: shared humanity. I am also reminded of our perfectly imperfect human condition, which predisposes each & every one of us to a lifetime of patterned responses triggered by stress: automatic thinking, emotional reactivity & ‘negative’ habits as coping. Brené Brown, PhD. LMSW (another social worker) says, <strong”We can do hard things.” We can & will experience suffering, illness, death, & uncertainty; but we can also “rise strong” & “dare greatly.” We can do hard things, but first we’ve got to “show-up” & “be seen”. From this, I know: Ruminating in isolation is not enough.

To bridge the gaps that prevent us from knowing our true potential, we’ve got to speak-up & speak-out about our own perfectly imperfect experiences. We’ve got to show courage by disclosing the contents of our minds & of our hearts, so that we can receive empathy & gain perspective in turn. If the aim is to rise strong in your wake, we have to connect with ourselves & with each other – now – while we’re in it: caught in your tide & currents of change. After all, courage is contagious; & (as Brown says) “Every time we choose courage, we make everyone around us a little better & the world – a little braver.”

May this letter serve as an invitation – a call for courage, for authentic relation & for connection in turn; despite quarantine.! Just write. No length or content requirements. No expectations for grandiosity, critical insight or knowledge display. No signature required. Just write. From your heart & about your experience as it unfolds – this is a call for submissions. A call for contribution to this shared blog. Because together, we too are a force to be reckoned with. #Stongertogether #Neveralone. Now, let’s build bridges!

In Service & Sisterhood,
This Blog’s Manager