We’ve been living under the shadow of this Covid 19 pandemic for 18 months now and I’ve hardly posted on my blog. That may not sound like a long time but it’s the longest year and a half of my life. Normally an optimistic, glass half full, everything is rosy type person, this pandemic has wiped hope from my days and left me feeling dry and brittle, like a broken shell lying on the beach. I haven’t even had the energy to write, which tells you how dark things have gotten, since writing is my cathartic release for processing life events. But today, after the kids were safely off at school I thought I’d better sit down and start typing to find that little piece in me that holds the light. To find that light I need to travel back.

I invite you along the journey, for your light may help me find mine.

For my family this pandemic became real when we found out that our daughter Grace’s high school trip to the U.K. was cancelled. She was to leave on March 15th, 2020 and be in Ireland wearing green and celebrating St. Paddy’s day on the 17th. We were in a state of flux for several days before the planned departure day and then our Provincial health officer, Bonnie Henry, advised people to cancel trips, which our school district promptly did. A few days later, our Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, announced that our National borders would be closed as of March 18th. That settled any idea of travelling in or out of our country. Our daughter Grace’s trip to the U.K. would not happen and our older son Mitchell, who had been in Australia for the past year, would not be coming home until the borders opened again.

I think that was the first day my depression crept silently into our house, like a small grey mouse looking for a bread crumb.

Spring break arrived and while we revelled in the momentary halt in our world’s rotation, we also spent large moments huddled around our T.V. set waiting for news about the spreading virus. Restrictions came one after the other. First, with recommendations for people to isolate in place and distance themselves. In the beginning, our health authorities didn’t insist on masks but I thought that must be a mistake. Wasn’t this a respiratory virus and wouldn’t we want to prevent the virus from entering our mouth and nose? Eventually, masks were mandated and our family’s back door ledge became a mask filled epitaph and our new bohemian decor was replete with hand sanitizing bottles which littered our house.

At first, it was a lark and an adventure and we took the task on with abundant enthusiasm. After all, this was our opportunity to spend more time with our kids and also guide their learning in areas that we viewed were important. We spent our mornings studying math, science, English, and socials. The kids had more time to practice their music and after lunch we went on long hikes up the mountain behind our house. Tea time at 3 pm was relished by all as we sat outside savouring the muffins and scones we had made together; an opportunity to teach fractions, measurement and a life skill. Later in the afternoon we scattered around the living room, settling into the various chairs and couches, pulling blankets over ourselves like we were heading into a long winter hibernation. We plowed through novel after novel in this state and some of us had lovely naps.

At first, I was in a state of bliss, lulled into this isolation novelty but as summer arrived and the pandemic situation didn’t improve, I wondered if life would ever normalize. Throughout that spring and summer our world shook again as we watched incidence, like the murder of George Floyd, a black man who took his last breath under the knee of an abusive police officer in the States. Sadly, this wasn’t an isolated incident and while we were all sequestered like jurors in court, we watched similar events occur again and again. Black Lives Matter rallies were held and then far right advocates and white supremacist crawled out of the wood work like ants after sugar to spread their message of hate. We watched in horror as the U.S. coped with civil unrest but sadly it wasn’t isolated to one country. While the world came to a screeching halt due to the pandemic, we had a moment to glimpse how minorities are treated all over the world. Here in Canada, a microscope clearly illuminated the horrid treatment our Indigenous peoples have experienced throughout the ages and continue despite our journey towards Truth and Reconciliation.

I cried every day.

Then a huge shake up came in the fall of 2020 when the United States held their election and all hell seemed to break loose as the Republican president Trump was voted out of office in favour of Biden, a democrat. There were riots and protests and the snow globe was shaken again, this time causing a blizzard of epic proportions. The world shook as Democracy in the U.S. was on trial., This historic event seemed to crack open the darkest corners of our world and hate mongers flooded out of the darkness, like the wicked witch’s flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz movie. Throughout it all, like Dorothy, I just wanted to go home; back to life before the storm. (If you want a image of this click on the video below)

In the fall of 2020, the spark I felt when we started homeschooling blew out and our days dragged as we trudged through the curriculum set out by the Province. Our youngest daughter Kate hated math so much that each morning was a new battle. Her twin Victoria, was flying through the lessons, trying hard to please and do her best but became extremely anxious whenever we left the house on our rare and infrequent big grocery shops. She’s hung onto us like she’d never see us again as we opened the garage door. Her hands were also clear indicators of her fears, as they were red and raw from her constant washing and hand sanitizing.

At age 11, all of our son William’s work was done on line and he quickly got sucked into the vortex of the ether world, coming away from the blue screen looking disengaged and blurry eyed. In hindsight, I wished we hadn’t join the School District’s V Learn program as it didn’t work for us. We should have taken the leap and became independent homeschoolers but I didn’t want our children to lose their spots in our coveted elementary school. If we had become homeschooling rebels, we would have had to register in a different school once the pandemic was over and I knew our children wanted to return to their former school. We did our best day by day but it wore us all down.

That little grey mouse found more than a crumb and grew bigger every day.

Finally, in February of 2021, a glimmer of light started to shine through the dark clouds of the pandemic. Several vaccines were being rolled out and our oldest population, being the most vulnerable, were slowly being vaccinated. Surely it was only a matter of time before our whole population would be protected from this virus.

With the vaccination hope, despite the fact that the pandemic wasn’t over, a new school term was beginning in February 2021, so we decided to send our children back to school for the spring session. We had home schooled them almost a year by this point and they wanted to see their friends again. We had a few scares when our children were exposed to others who contracted Covid 19 and we had to self isolate but thankfully, none of us ever became sick. The school year ended and by mid summer our whole family was vaccinated. Everyone except our twin daughters, who are only ten, and the vaccine hasn’t been approved for them yet.

I’m not going to go in depth here regarding the extremely hot weather we experienced this past summer and the drought that ensued or the hundreds of forest fires raging in our Province. I did want to touch on it though as the air quality was so bad for most of the summer that we could hardly see the lake right below our house. One day we had an evacuation alert and felt what it must have been like for so many people in our province who had to leave their homes due to the fires. That gave us a sense of being trapped in the glass dome and having no where to go. Scary!

The health of our earth has to be a priority or we as a species will not survive.

I thought by the time fall of 2021 arrived the snow would finally settle and we would be moving into a post Covid world but then the big hand shook the globe and we stumbled around looking for the light despite another raging storm with a pending National election along with this fourth wave. Anti Maskers and vaccine protesters spilled into the streets defying common sense, creating havoc in our world. And instead of party leaders telling us what they would do to get us out of this pandemic or deal with the climate crisis, they kept ranting and raving that this election should not have been held during a pandemic. That was no help at all in my opinion and frankly I’m tired of our country’s leaders acting like five year olds that haven’t learned to get a long with each other….but I digress.

Scientists have been warning us that this Corona virus keeps evolving and mutating and unless we achieve herd immunity, we will never be free of it. I recently read a joke on my Facebook feed page that said, “I swear we are fighting two pandemics right now; the Coronavirus and Stupidity.” It looks like we may be in this pandemic awhile longer judging from those few who believe it’s all about their rights that are being taken away. Obviously these people don’t care about the greater good for our society.

Today is the first day of fall and with the transition of seasons it causes me to reflect. A realization that we may never know normal again and if it comes, it will only be a false sense of calm. With the climate crisis banging loudly on our doorsteps, I fear we either choose to don our warmest coats and hats to weather the next storm or find a big hammer to break the glass. I believe I will choose the latter, ’cause I’m holding the vision of a tiny piece of hope lying amongst all that fake snow.

I want to thank you for holding a space of light for me to write this piece.

Over the last year and a half I know this pandemic has touched us all differently and that phrase, “we are in the same storm but not in the same boat,” is so true. No matter where you are along your journey, I hope you will help me lift this hammer to break the glass ’cause I’m tired of having someone else shake the globe.

The only way for us to get out of this storm is together. And the thought that we are together brings me hope.

Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope