Like everyone, I am very focused on the return to school issue. I have four treasured grandchildren and a daughter who is a school social worker, and I am concerned about their health and safety vis a vis Covid 19. Each day, I await news of how my grandchildren will be educated and how my daughter will be guiding her caseload of students. Already, the decision about hybrid, in person, remote learning has become absurdly political, and quite frankly, it makes me angry. But that is another story, for another day.
What has me extremely concerned is the impact of Corona and the quarantine situation on the Great Generation, those who survived the depression, World War II and even some who were born toward the end of the Spanish Flu, which lasted for years past 1918. My mother-in-law is one of that generation, one who is in an assisted living facility, and has been dealing with strength and dignity during the pandemic. In truth, I admit she doesn’t always remember that there is such an issue, but she does know that she must, when it is mandated, remain in her room. Meals and snacks are brought to her, she is still reminded to shower and get dressed, and her health is checked regularly. But unless she is escorted for a walk outside, she is room-bound all day and night. She may have lost friends, she wouldn’t know. Nor would we. The extent to which we are privy is that there have been “positive for Covid 19 cases” and some deaths, but the rest is unknown to us.
I am impressed beyond measure at the steps taken by the assisted living facility as they navigate these uncharted waters. Despite our president telling an interviewer the contrary, there is no manual or book to tell everyone what to do. I do know that as long as there are no active cases of the disease in the facility, we can reserve the shady area for a visit with Mom. We all don our masks to ensure the residents remain safe and healthy, even though we are outdoors and socially distant. Although she doesn’t quite understand the reason each and every minute for the mask, and she is not happy wearing it, she adheres to the mandate, as we gently encourage her to follow our lead.
We look forward to the day when we can take her out for dinner, a ride or just a change of scenery. But that will take a very long time, I am afraid. The Great Generation may not have that long, and it worries and saddens me, but then again, I am grateful for all we have with her. We can hear each other’s voice on the phone, and we can socially distance ourselves and smile over our masks. That will have to do, for now.