The Indifference to Deaths Caused By Covid-19

The Indifference to Deaths Caused By Covid-19

It’s distressing to see the huge, growing number of people dead from Covid-19.

But even more distressing is the apparent indifference and lack of compassion shown by society-at-large. Indifference to the devastation thrust upon hundreds of thousands of families and friends who’ve lost a loved one to this pandemic.

At the time this was written, more than 220,000 people in the United States have died in less than a year due to Covid-19. And it continues to grow. It’s estimated that the number could even double in a few months.

This ever-growing number has become merely a passing footnote in the nightly news reports. A statistic that is quickly dismissed amid the daily outrages of a polarizing political backdrop.

To be sure, the people represented in this number are anything but a statistic. Each and every one of them is beloved by their circle of family and friends.

Represented in this impersonal, sterile number are spouses, partners, lovers, mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren. It represents dear friends, neighbors, coworkers, teachers, mentors, coaches, and countless other important members of our local communities. The number includes first-responders and all kinds of essential workers that made the ultimate sacrifice while serving and supporting their communities.

We hear that those who die usually die alone in medical isolation. They are unable to be with the people who love them so dearly during their last days, hours, and minutes.

There are no final embraces. No shared tears. No chance to look into each other’s eyes to convey the deep, unending love and profound impact they’ve had on their lives. Sometimes there isn’t even an opportunity to say final goodbyes—even one spoken over a phone. Many final words are left unspoken; leaving those who never got to say them with the heavy burden of guilt to carry for years on end.

Those family and friends – some of whom lost multiple loved ones to Covid-19 – are left with the impossible reality that the person they loved so dearly is suddenly gone from their lives. And all too often, they’ve lost a person who their very existence and identity is so tightly intertwined with, they can’t possibly begin to imagine how life itself can continue. They cannot understand why the whole world didn’t come to an abrupt end when their loved one took their last breath.

That is the level of devastation these deaths have wrought on so many families. And yet, so many others in our society are carrying on as if none of it matters.

Have we truly succumbed to an environment of apathy and an apparent unwillingness to sacrifice our own desires and comfort for the greater good? We seemingly lack empathy and compassion for the most vulnerable in our families and community. Many are blindly willing to sacrifice the lives of others so they can try to carry on with the lifestyle they had before Covid-19 hit our shores. We continue to see so many flock to crowded beaches, parties, and the like. We see them visiting busy stores and restaurants. And all of these scenes are usually shown with few or no masks in sight.

Have convenience, comfort, and entertainment really become more important than human lives?

Additionally, we are now living in a society that has become so embroiled in an ideological war that everything becomes politicized. The choice of whether to wear a mask and follow medical safety guidelines has become a political statement. Many people ignore the guidance of medical experts, and some go so far as label it “fake news.”

They choose instead to follow the lead of callous politicians who value holding onto their positions of power far above the lives of the constituents they were elected to serve.

All the while, the number of cases and resulting deaths continue to rise.

This virus does not discriminate. Though some groups are impacted at a higher rate than others, Covid-19 infects all age groups, sexes, and ethnicities. It doesn’t care how healthy you are, how much money you earn, or what your political affiliation is. It is a highly contagious airborne virus that anyone can breathe in and unknowingly pass on. While many who get Covid-19 show mild or no symptoms at all, without the proper precautions they can easily pass it on to many people who are not so lucky.

Thousands of people are currently lying in hospital beds with their lives hanging in the balance. And countless more are unknowingly going to follow in their footsteps.

Many will recover, but some with resulting damage that will last their lifetime. Too many others will succumb and perish. They will become part of that ever-growing statistic; a future footnote in history books. What won’t be captured in the history books are all the individual stories of grief and anguish of people all over this country (and world) who must now live with a tragic loss for the rest of their own lives.

The most devastating part of Covid-19 is the simple fact that many of these people didn’t have to die from it.

We had it in our collective power to prevent so many of these deaths. We still do. Experts told us early on how to slow the spread and flatten the curve; to vastly reduce the infection rate and death toll.

By all means, following the guidelines isn’t easy. None of it is convenient, and it causes an abundance of stress, headaches, and problems. Some people’s livelihoods are being severely challenged—but many others aren’t.

Many others aren’t following the CDC guidelines of how to protect yourself and others for one simple fact: they don’t want to and don’t care about the consequences.

I don’t know what will change the apparent tide of indifference to death and grief in our society. Perhaps it will only happen when each and every one of us suffers the loss of a loved one to this pandemic. Perhaps it requires new leadership across the board that will take this pandemic seriously. 

In the meantime, we should ask ourselves, how much value do we place on human lives during the spread of Covid-19? And then ask ourselves, what are we willing to do to protect ourselves and others? 

One simple place to start: wear a mask and vote.

 

The Continuing Cycle of Grief

The Continuing Cycle of Grief

It’s been eleven years since my 4-year-old daughter died. Eleven years of traveling through this complicated journey of grief. To be sure, I have come a long way since those first agonizing days, weeks, months, and years. My life looks and feels very different now. I have come to terms with the devastation, pain, and longing. My personal growth is evident. I am reinvested in life and try to embrace all the goodness it has to offer.

And yet, I will never be free from grief’s treacherous clutches.

I learned this truth many years ago. After years of fighting against the unbearable pain of losing my daughter, I finally surrendered to it. Now don’t get me wrong, surrendering to grief doesn’t mean I was somehow okay with her death. The loss of my daughter is too traumatic; too unbearable to “move on” from and “get over.”

Surrendering to grief meant I accepted the fact that my grief – and all the uncomfortable emotions that come with it – will never fully go away. So there is no point in spending all of my energy and focus on trying to repress those feelings or rage against them. It will always be a losing battle. And, in fact, it just ends up making those feelings more intense.

Once I surrendered to that reality, I was finally able to begin the challenging work to transform my grief—and my life.

Surrendering to grief meant choosing to stop focusing on her death and all the pain it caused. Fixating on the details of her death and the devastating aftermath had kept me stuck in a state of anguish, anger, and hopelessness.

Instead, I chose to focus on her brief life, the love and joy she gave me, and the intense love I will always feel for her. With a lot of diligent, hard work that included support groups, individual therapy, writing, and expressing my feelings, I gained emotional strength and motivation. I was finally able to give myself permission to allow happiness, hopefulness, and even gratitude back into my life. And each year since, grief has loosened its grip on my day-to-day life.

But every year, there is a predictable trigger when grief envelops me once again. Each September, I am faced with my daughter’s birthday and the anniversary of her death.

At the beginning of the month we celebrate her “would have been” birthday without her. We try to make the event joyful. We eat cake and release live ladybugs (which she loved) in her honor. But the fact is she’ll never again blow out birthday candles or open presents. Her birthday is a difficult reminder that we’ve lost another year of watching her grow. We’ve lost the hopes and dreams we had for her. And the pleasure of watching her chase her own hopes and dreams.

The end of the month marks the anniversary of the day she died. That day of horror which is forever seared in my memory. Over the course of the month, I can physically feel the grief tightening around my body. As it grips my stomach, I often feel nauseous. Then it travels up to my chest and neck; squeezing as it goes which makes it hard to breathe at times. It leaks out of my eyes. It clouds my mind and leaves me with headaches and foul moods. I often lose my patience and feel frustrated or even angry at the most ordinary things. It makes my muscles ache and leaves me feeling exhausted all of the time.

And even though I expect it every year like clockwork, there is simply nothing I can do to prepare for it or make it any easier.

Every September, I am immersed in those old feelings of anguish, anger, and hopelessness. For no matter how far I’ve come in my journey of healing my grief, the destination is never going to be the one I want. Because the destination will never include a future with my daughter in it. At least not in the way I long for.

Yes, my daughter is still present in my life and I think of her lovingly every day. But she is forever frozen in time; just a handful of memories I cherish. Memories whose color and detail will fade over time as my mind ages. And that reality crushes my soul during times like this.

I know this wave of grief will pass. I can already sense it starting to loosen its grip once again.

And I will go on living my life, enjoying it, and making the most of it. That is, until next September rolls around again. That is simply the continuing cycle of grief years after such a devastating loss. It is a reality I have no choice but to live with. 

 

Sister Trouble

Sister Trouble

When i was 6, my other sister was 4 and Madison was 2. So, Julia (the 4 year old) was being mean to me. So i threw a toy at her. She started crying and calling “Daddy! Mommy!” I took Madison with me and ran down the basement. I said to Madison, “Go upstairs and hit Julia with a book!.” Madison was confused.

“Why Shannon?” She asked. “Because, Julia is always mean to you. Don’t you want to get her back for it?”

Madison nodded. Got a book, went upstairs and started slapping it at Julia. Now of course a 2 year old can’t hit hard, but Julia just assumed it would have. Again Julia started yelling, “Daddy, Mommy!” While trying to grab the book away from Madison and hit her with it.

Finally my Dad came out and started yelling at Madison. She had no clue what was happening.

I felt so bad i started bursting into tears! “No daddy it was me! All me! I told Madison to hit Julia with the book.”

Madison hugged me and said “It’s okay Shannon, don’t cry.”

So my Dad understood and started yelling at me. And that was the end of that day!

Madison was always trying to make everyone else feel better and I miss her.
Submitted by Shannon Ritts in memory of her sister Madison Ritts