I mean, but, well, it’s kind of understandable.
My Grandma Porter died a year ago peacefully in her sleep. She had been in hospice for a few months. It wasn’t a surprise.
The memorial was a few days later. I couldn’t make it. I wrote something that my Aunt Julie read for me.
Because Grandpa Porter served in the armed forces, he and grandma have space reserved at the Alexandria National Cemetery but because this is the military and the government and other perfectly valid and important reasons, her funeral is just now scheduled for 29 March 2020.
We were given the specific date a few weeks ago.
At first I wasn’t going to go.
Then all the planets aligned and I was going to go.
Since I was taking my five year old with me, I researched CoronaVirus Disease / COVID-19 more thoroughly than when I was just travelling around Europe for work and I’ll admit one of my favourite sources was, of course, John Oliver.
FYI – you can’t get the coronavirus by eating Chinese food. And gargling with bleach is not the most ideal preventative method.
I also listened to an episode from the The Daily podcast which attempted to be a little calmer than most news agencies.
I’ll admit I’m fairly cut off over here in the Netherlands with the Dutch having their own approach to this crisis – even going so far as to say NO ONE in the Netherlands had caught it until just a few days ago.
Effectively, what I found out is that there are many CoVIDs covering a rather large family of viruses “…that cause illness ranging from the common cold to more severe diseases such as Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS-CoV) and Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS-CoV).”
I found out that children are mostly super immune cause they’re exposed to all kinds of CoVIDs #AllTheTime in that petri dish called school. And daycare.
And that the five year old will be just fine, thank you very much.
And, pretty much. so will I because I’m exposed to that same petri dish indirectly every single day.
The people most vulnerable to COVID-19 are those who are NOT directly or indirectly exposed.
Like my grandpa.
And a lot of other wonderful people who are going to the funeral.
It was painful, sure, when I decided not to go but I didn’t realize HOW painful until last night I retweeted a post.
This is why I’m not going to my grandmother’s funeral. I don’t want to indirectly expose older generations. https://t.co/aO0vmlRsvS— K Rain Leander [they / them] (@rainleander) March 9, 2020
And over the course of today?
That sunk in.
And pulled me down.
And sucker punched me in the depression.
All this time I thought I was just stressed cause of all the job stuffs, and, yeah, that’s not helpful timing, eh?
I’m missing my grandma’s funeral.
And it hurts.
I’m hoping that writing this down and getting it out starts the healing process.
Sure, right now it feels impossible. It’s dark. It’s “late”.
My brain is being particularly cruel.
But tonight I’ll sleep.
And tomorrow I’ll wake.
And we’ll see what happens next.