How Much Does It Really Take?

Marie woke Wednesday morning to the sound of her eighty-three-year-old husband’s labored breathing. Each breath was to her like the sound of a freight train. Sensing that there was something deeply wrong, she quickly ran to the telephone and called 911 and then helped Roland to get some clothes on while they waited for paramedics to arrive.

He was rushed to a nearby hospital and taken directly to ICU where he was diagnosed with pneumonia as well as a heart attack, and he was put on oxygen. The medical staff went immediately to work to drain fluid from Roland’s lungs, and then they tested him for COVID-19 symptoms.

During this whole time, Marie waited nervously at home for a telephone call to hear the results of her husband’s tests, because pandemic protocol would not allow her to be at her husband’s side. At eighty-nine, Marie Taylor is in better shape than most fifty-years-old, but the current crisis kept her from having physical contact with anyone else. She stayed in her home, alone except for brief visits from family members who sat outside on the deck and talked with her through an open window.

Testing for the pandemic came back negative, but the damage to Roland’s system had already been done. Marie’s only contact with him would be a short telephone conversation, provided through the courtesy and empathy of hospital staff.

It would be remiss if I did not mention that every member of the hospital staff Marie had contact with, went far above and beyond expectations. Nurses and doctors gave her private cell phone numbers so that she feels as much as possible, she was right there. They cared for her husband as if he were a member of their own family.

On the following Sunday afternoon, unfortunately, my father-in-law Roland passed away. He ultimately succumbed to the increasing pressure being put on his failing heart, mostly due to a pre-condition that required him to wear a pacemaker on his heart.

I am not telling you this story because it is unusual in any way. To the outside world, Roland Taylor would not have been considered an extraordinary man, though he certainly was to his loving family. He had many fine qualities and like the rest of us, he had his foibles. He also had a mischievous sense of humor, loved to tell a good story, and was always delighted when the family was around. He adored his family deeply, and they loved him. Most of all, he maintained an unrelenting devotion to his wife Marie, and he never left her side.

To his five step-daughters, three sons-in-law, ten grandchildren, five great-grandchildren, and a multitude of other extended family members old and new, he was our Roly.

I tell you about this occurrence because from the moment he was taken away in the ambulance, Roland was never able to receive another hug, a kiss, or even a reassuring squeeze of his hand from anyone he held close in his heart.

Roland died accompanied only by hospital staff, while Marie and every other family member stayed in a pandemic forced, isolated state.

His funeral will ultimately be very similar, as there will be no great gathering to give Roly the send-off he richly deserves. Grieving mourners will not be able to come together in familial embraces. Many will not even be allowed to attend the funeral.

On the very same day Roland passed away, one of the most horrific tragedies in Canadian history occurred in Nova Scotia, where nearly two dozen innocent people were inexplicably taken from their loved ones by an act of extreme violence. An entire close-knit community, indeed an entire province of people must grieve for this senseless loss of life, and without the benefit of coming together physically.

So if you have been thinking for one second at any time during these last months, that this pandemic crisis cannot affect you personally; then think again.

There is a very good chance that each one of us knows someone who is experiencing a similar fate with the loss of a loved one. There is nothing more heart wrenching than losing someone in an environment where family and close friends cannot embrace, kiss one another, or for that matter even gather together to mourn.

The longer this pandemic is allowed to intrude on our lives, the more tragic stories like this one will have to be endured. We can’t even fathom the many ways our current situation is affecting so many others.

People are not meant to grieve in isolation. Nor are they meant to celebrate this way either. The faster we end the need for isolation, the better off we’ll all be.

What we’re being asked to do is not that difficult if we all do it together for a short period.

But, it does take all of us.

So just for a little while longer.

Please.

Stay at home.

Let’s do what’s necessary now so that we can unite again for the things that matter most.

Thanks for reading. I reference this piece in a future column Baseball Was Once ‘America’s Pastime’