Happiness in Corona Times

This piece was written a while ago. 


Happiness in Corona Times

My priorities are shifting. Before Covid 19 re-shaped our world, I may have wished for a European vacation, a river cruise,  or maybe an island holiday with a gigantic  beach house, where our children and grandchildren could enjoy weeks of leisure together. What happiness that would bring, I imagined!

And now? Now I just wish that our daughter Norah and her family, who live in Toronto, could come and visit us at home in Ottawa. What I really want is an early morning snuggle in bed, with our grandchildren. When their family sleeps here, they often jump into our bed, first thing in the morning. Even if they stay here, later in the summer, should we be that physically close?

Of course we have been having plenty of virtual visits. If nothing else, this pandemic has forced old geezers like ourselves to become more familiar with computer software. Most Sundays we have a Facetime dinner together with them and our sons who live here, in town. We also have regular Zoom visits with the kids, where we try to augment their parents’ teaching sessions with songs, stories, some math, reading and a lot of jokes. Lately the Oompa Loompa song from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a big hit. In between our regular sessions, we sometimes play games like Checkers and Snakes and Ladders on Together, another great piece of software.

On a sunny Saturday in May, we had a welcome reprieve. Norah’s family drove from Toronto to Peterborough and we drove there from Ottawa. We chose St. Anne’s Church, my husband’s childhood parish, as our meeting place.

It had been nine and a half weeks since we had last seen the kids - the longest stretch since our grandchildren started arriving. It was strange to see them and not touch – no welcoming, off-their-feet hugs for the kids, no heartfelt hugs for Norah and Sean, who are exhausted from the ongoing demands of work, child care and home schooling.

And yet, just seeing them was wonderful. Although we enjoy our regular virtual visits, nothing can compare with the real thing. Nine and a half weeks is not a long time but I’m sure Avery has grown a couple of inches since we last saw him. We sat in our lawn chairs, on the church grass and enjoyed our individual picnic lunches, under the shade of the maple trees. In that space, in these unusual circumstances, for that short time, life stood still and we simply enjoyed being together. The empty church parking lot was the perfect place for Avery and his five year old sister Eliza, to scooter around. Eliza showed off her new roller-blading skills. After a while, Pat and the kids all got out their ukeleles and played a few songs together. Looking across the street to his childhood elementary school brought back many happy memories for Pat.

There was no ocean, no beach house, no water slide, no swim-up bar, no spa. It was just a two hour, family picnic on a church lawn, but it was perfect.

To end our visit, we went over to Fairhaven, the long term care facility where Pat’s mother, Rita resides. People often ask us if we are worried about Rita, living in long term care right now. We’re feeling very lucky with Rita’s situation. There have been no Covid cases at Fairhaven and right from the start, we have been very impressed with the stringent measures put in place there, to safeguard staff and residents. We receive regular updates about Fairhaven  from Lionel Towns, the executive director, and personal updates on Rita’s condition from the very caring staff on her unit, Westview 2. Those updates from her caregivers are much appreciated because Rita herself is incapable of communicating with us. Over the past ten years we have gradually lost our vivacious, sociable Rita, to Alzheimers.

Some family members have had window visits with Rita over the past couple of months. Her ground floor room makes this very easy.

We called Fairhaven and asked if a staff member could make sure her chair was facing the window, so we could see each other. Instead, they told us that she would be sitting outside, in the fenced off garden behind the building. When we arrived, there she was, sitting in a chair, under an umbrella, well behind the fence. When she saw us, she became excited; smiling, waving and calling “you hoo.” Although she has not called us by name for some time, she still recognizes us. She still knows her people. She especially enjoys seeing children, so it was a treat for her to see Avery and Eliza.

Norah and family stayed for a short visit, then set off for Toronto. Pat’s brother Jay and wife Rosie joined us and for a half hour or so we serenaded Rita and the other residents gathered under the main sun shelter. As Pat played the ukelele and we accompanied him in song, Rita smiled, tapped her feet and sometimes waved her hands around. She thoroughly enjoyed herself. No, the tap dancing queen of earlier years is gone but there is still a love of music and people inside her. Standing in the hot sun, sharing music with her felt so good.

Jay and Pat serenade Rita

It’s hard to put into words how I felt that afternoon, as we drove back to Ottawa. I had prepared myself that it would be a long, tiring day. What I had not anticipated was the tremendous sense of contentment that I felt, as we journeyed home. For that time, I was perfectly happy, all because of sharing precious family time together after a long absence. That long day was a gift, our best day in a long time.

In the week after that visit we had a heat wave. Time at last to take the flannelette sheets off the guest beds that have not been slept in for so long. I put on the lighter, summer sheets, in anticipation of a visit that cannot come too soon.