Covid Christmas

Leading up to Christmas 2020, my kids and I had a plan. We knew the day would look and feel a lot different this year because of Covid-19 and the post-Thanksgiving surge. We anticipated not being able to gather with the extended family at my sister's-in-law house in Boston, but we figured if we -- the kids and I -- could still get together, we could accept this year's changes and just hope for normalcy next year. So in the weeks prior we dialed back our shopping, doing as much as possible on line, and our interaction with others, which had already been at a minimum. 

But as the day approached and Covid-19 crept closer and closer to us, we decided the best thing to do would be to spend Christmas apart, connected by our traditions, our family bond, and of course, Zoom! Thank goodness for Zoom. 

Although I still did almost as much baking as I do every Christmas, I must say this Christmas came and went without all the stress I normally subject myself to! Instead of running crazy Christmas eve without any time to stop and smell the glorious holiday scents, I was relaxed. Julia and I "attended" mass via Zoom -- sitting on the couch in our sweats snuggled with Zona (the cockapoo). After a takeout dinner from Legal Seafood (keeping our tradition of  dining at Legal after church), Julia and I drove around town delivering cookies and viewing the Christmas lights -- in our pajamas.  The rest of the night consisted of Hallmark Movies, Julz making apple crisp while I made cinnamon rolls, stuffing stockings, and watching the Pope say midnight mass. I retired for the night about 3 hours earlier than I usually do on Christmas Eve (1:30 instead of 4:30), on the couch, with the lights lit on the "Jeff tree." I thought about how different Christmas day would be not having my kids all together, but counted my many blessings, one being that we could gather via Zoom. I felt worse for my 89-year-old father-in-law who had just tested positive for Covid and would have to spend the day alone. At least the rest of us had the capability of connecting via Zoom, unlike him who only has a flip phone, by choice, and little to no technical knowledge. 

Christmas morning was laid back. With a fire going, cinnamon rolls in the oven and mimosas poured, Julia and I were waiting patiently to Zoom with Matthew and Meaghan when Matthew called. "Surprise. I'm outside for a quick distant visit so you can see Brody. We'll be in the garage. Wear your mask and don't come closer than 6 feet." I grabbed my mask and went outside. I tried to utter "best Christmas gift ever," but my tears silenced the words. They were both happy tears for getting to see my grandson on his first Christmas, even if at a distance, and tears for the absurdity of it all -- this Covid Christmas. After a bit, the kids went back to their home in Boston and we zoomed our Christmas.

The rest of the day Julz and I spent in our pajamas, watching Hallmark movies and cooking dinner together. 

It certainly wasn't the Christmas most of us had hoped for. It was about making the best of the situation we've become too familiar with over the last 9 months. Of course we missed all those we couldn't be with, but we recognize  how fortunate we are to have been able to celebrate "together," with no new empty seats at the virtual table.  This strange year really drove home the real meaning of Christmas -- celebrating Jesus, which means celebrating love, and celebrating family, because there's nothing more important than that. 

mom

Anyone who knows me well knows I am the youngest of 12 -- I have 7 sisters and 4 brothers. Sadly we lost a brother to cancer 3 years ago, but not before we had a long awaited all-sibling reunion in San Diego for the first time in about 40 years. Our father died in September 2002, but our mom is thankfully still with us.

Mom was born and raised in Barbados, and when she left for New York in 1944 to marry our dad, she didn't know then that she would never see her parents again, or that it would be 40 years before she would return to her homeland. She was 39 when she had me, 15 years after giving birth to our oldest sister, Bobbie. She never learned to drive, and never worked outside the home. The woman who never wanted children spent her life caring for them -- after raising all of us she babysat for her grandkids and eventually for teachers' children in our home. She loved soap operas, she was a voracious reader of romance novels, and could tackle a New York Times crossword puzzle like a wordsmith. She was an okay cook although didn't enjoy it, but we were well-fed. The concoctions she came up with on a very tight budget (like hamburger over rice, hotdogs over rice, kidneys over rice, cow tongue) have given us fodder for laughter today. She taught me how to be a mother in the way she loved me and took care of me.

Mom turns 99 today, Nov. 22. We are grateful to have her still, but dementia has claimed her memory and her mind over the last several years, leaving her a shell of herself. Phone conversations are short and lack substance -- she doesn't remember what she did five minutes ago, never mind that day, so we talk about the weather and how she's feeling. I tell her about my kids and my new grandson, wishing she could share in the joy of my growing family and the news of my daughters getting married next year.  I don't even think she knows who I am, so I remind her that I am her youngest daughter (and her favorite 😉).  I believe she pictures me as the young girl she knew when her mind was intact. She can't fathom that I have a 32-year-old son who is married and has a baby, and that her own "baby" is 60 years old. 

She tells me how much she misses me and always asks "when can I see you." I tell her about the pandemic that won't allow me to fly there to see her, and I know she doesn't understand. Yesterday I told her how last year at this time a few sisters and i surprised her on her 98th birthday when we traveled to Alabama where she lives with our sister Linda and her husband Ron. She said how nice that would be if we could go this year, or maybe one day she can come visit me. In spite of her scattered mind, I'm fortunate to be able to tell her I love her and hear her say it back. 

I often wonder about the jumbled thoughts in her head. Does she know us in her brain, but can't process the memory to convey it to us? Yesterday she told me that someone told her she was going to be 99, and wanted to know if that's true. I told her it was and she said "good thing I don't look it!" I asked her if she felt it, and she said "no, I don't!" I hope I can say the same if I live to be 99!

She is like the energizer bunny -- she just keeps going! She survived an intestinal obstruction last year, pneumonia, several falls and fainting spells. She walks with the help of a walker, but physically is in pretty good shape. She has certainly gifted us with good genes!

It's been hard watching her mind whither away the last 10 years or so. But it's been the most difficult on Linda who has cared for her for about 8 years and sees her mental and physical decline daily. She left her job at the pet store to be home with mom, and can no longer just pick up and go somewhere -- she must first make arrangments for someone to be with her. Linda raised her own 5 kids and helps with her 9 grandchildren, and now with our mom it's almost like she has another child to take care of. She answers the same questions over and over again, makes sure she eats her meals, and is her caretaker in every sense of the word. She never complains to us about it and doesn't see it as a burden.

We owe a debt of gratitude to Linda and Ron. Thanks to them, mom is well-cared for and loved. And we can rest easy knowing that. So in this week of Thanksgiving, I am grateful to Linda and Ron for being mom's lifeline and giving us peace of mind. God has set a special place for them in heaven!

Hopefully this time next year we'll be celebrating Mom's 100 years with a family reunion of epic proportions for our 4-generation family! 

Remembering 9/11 in a Covid World

19 years … sometimes it feels like a lifetime, and other times it feels like yesterday that terrorists breeched our safety and security and took the lives of nearly 3000 innocent souls on a beautiful September Tuesday. One of those lives was my husband of 17 years, father of our 3 children, ages 7, 11 and 13 at the time. Like Jeff, they were sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, siblings, spouses, partners -- just going about their day, going to work, traveling for work or pleasure. Every one of them was part of a family, loved, and now missed for far too long.

Each anniversary of that horrible day feeds the grief that is always there. Anyone who has lost someone dear to them knows this. When the loss is through a very public tragedy like September 11, 2001, the community remembers with us and offers comfort. Ordinarily there are public services, small ones led by local organizations or towns; a larger one held in Boston with the Governor, Mayor and other dignitaries attended by the 9/11 family members and friends; and the commemoration ceremony in New York at the site of the World Trade Center and Memorial Park.

 For many family members this provides an opportunity to gather and remember together. The ceremonies give them something to do on an emotive and difficult day. Others, like me, choose to participate in service, finding purpose in the day that changed us all, and paying it forward for the compassion and kindness bestowed on us the weeks and months following the unthinkable murder of our loved ones. It was those acts of kindness that helped us cope through the very dark times in our lives and in our country. Those acts of kindness led to legislation recognizing the Anniversary of 9/11 as a National Day of Service and Remembrance as part of the 2009 Serve America Act, co-authored by Senator Ted Kennedy who was a beacon of hope for Massachusetts 9/11 families.

But this year is different. Covid-19 is dictating that we find a new way to remember, without the community physically  around us, without the organized service projects, without the school presentations educating students about a day that happened before they were even born that changed their parents’ and teachers’ America forever. The Massachusetts Commemoration, usually held at the Memorial in the Public Garden with Mayor Marty Walsh and at the State House with Governor Baker, will be on line (find it at www.massfund.org beginning at 8:30 a.m. Sept. 11). It feels like it will be easier for people to forget. Perhaps seeing the flags at half staff will cause some to ask why and jog their memories.

To remember 9/11 we encourage you to join in on what has become the largest day of service in the country. Do a random act of kindness for a friend or stranger. Donate if you can to a cause that’s important to you.  Show some consideration for someone you ordinarily would ignore. Look for opportunities in your community to do socially-distant service, like cleaning up your neighborhood. Google the names of those who died that day, and the first responders and contractors who have since died as a result of their work at the site known as Ground Zero. Say their names out loud. This ensures they won’t be forgotten. Do your random act of kindness in their memory. Most of all, just be nice.

Parents, talk to your children about the way America came together as a true United States after 9/11. Tell them how we all felt like family, calming each others’ fears, waving our flags on the street corners, locking arms while singing God Bless America at large gatherings and sporting events, and being there for those who needed it. Convey to them how senators and congressmen actually worked together, crossing the partisan lines to do what they needed to do for the safety and security of our country. We weren’t Republicans and Democrats then – we were Americans, bound together in tragedy, working together to survive, proud of our resilience. Paint that picture for your children, and give them hope that maybe one day we can find that unity and resilience again, but without the unprecedented, horrific tragedy that brought us there 19 years ago.

Keep the promise we made when America was temporarily brought to her knees on September 11, 2001 -- Never Forget.

The loss of a friend

I said goodbye to a very dear friend last month. But more importantly, a family said goodbye to their daughter, sister, aunt and cousin. A long, tough battle with Covid 19 took her from this earth at only 51 years old, but she lived more life than many of us could even dream about.

Most people who know Donna Morrissey or have heard of her are familiar with her incredible work with the American Red Cross. For nearly 2 decades she was the face of the Red Cross regionally, organized major blood drives, developed partnerships between the Red Cross and corporations, and responded thoughtfully and compassionately to natural disasters and tragedies, providing assistance to and consoling those directly affected by events such as the horrific Sandy Hook School Shooting, Hurricane Katrina, the Pulse Nightclub shooting, Hurricane Maria and so many others.  Some know of her challenging work with the Diocese of Boston during the heinous sexual abuse scandal, a difficult time in her career that resulted in at least 2 mentions of her name in the award-winning movie Spotlight. Having worked in PR all of my adult life, I've never met anyone as talented, determined, and successful as she was in the field. She handled every situation with ease, finesse and professionalism.

I met Donna more than 15 years ago at a 9/11 blood drive at Fenway Park. I was invited to the blood drive by fellow Abingtonian and then-Boston EMS Chief Rich Serino, who thought it might be a nice distraction for my kids on a day he knew was difficult for us. Without hesitation, Donna tucked us under her wing, took us through the various areas of the blood drive, explaining what was happening and why it was a tribute to those who died on 9/11. She led my kids to the newly-won World Series trophy, introduced them to Red Sox players and owner Larry Lucchino, and made sure they got their fill of the  clam chowder, hot dogs, fries and other snacks available to the donors. When my youngest, Julia, said to me "Mom, I never thought we'd ever have fun on September 11 again," Donna caught my eye and we both choked back tears. She introduced me to her American Red Cross colleagues and invited me to sit on the board of the Red Cross Blood Services along with Rich, who was board president. This was the beginning of our long friendship.

There was so much more to Donna than her work self. She was fun, funny, intriguing, and a firecely committed friend. She absolutely adored her boy Sebastian, a German Shepherd she raised from puppyhood. The two of them were spiritually connected, tuned in to each other like nothing I've ever seen. She was also a very devoted daughter to her mom and dad, and equally loyal as a sister, especially to her younger twin sisters Johanna and Caitlin, to whom she often referred as "my girls." She was valiant in her efforts to make her father's last months as comfortable as possible, and to treat him to his favorite foods and experiences he enjoyed, like dining out.

Donna loved a good adventure, a nice bottle of bubbly, red lipstick, and anything Chanel. She loved sparkly, big sunglasses -- even more if they were Chanel. Bling never looked so good on anyone else. She would get so excited about finding incredible deals at TJ Maxx or gently-used pieces of Waterford crystal at her favorite antique shop on the Cape to add to her collection. She knew everything there was to know about The Real Housewives of New York, New Jersey, Atlanta and Beverly Hills, and considered it a life achievement when she appeared in an episode of the Housewives of New York after she and Countess Luann visited the hurricane ravaged Florida Keys.

I was fortunate to be one of Donna's frequent travel companions. Sometimes I'd accompany her on Red Cross business trips, helping to set up at a conference or key blood drives, or just tagging along to keep her company during off hours. Among the cities we visited were Miami, New York, Savannah, Key West and Las Vegas, each having a story that brought much laughter then and later, and now, wonderful memories.

As a friend, Donna always let you know she was there for you, and backed up her words with action. She was a devoted, caring friend who often checked in by phone, wanting to know every detail of what was going in my life and with my kids. Our phone calls were filled with laughter, encouragement, advice, and discussions about her latest fun find or how she would use her accumulated travel points.

It's still difficult to come to terms with the loss of my friend who meant so much to so many. I miss hearing her say "Hey Doll -- what's new and exciting with you?" I miss her exuberance, her compassion, her words of wisdom and her friendship. But I know she's up there, sparkly sunglasses and all, checking in and looking out for me and all those she cared about. Godspeed, Donna. I raise a glass of bubbly to you.

Living through strange times

We're bored. We're anxious. We're nervous and we're frustrated. Covid-19, or Corona Virus, has the world in its germy, contagious, scary grip. We have to physically separate from friends and family, kids can't go to school, and people in grocery stores, at least those brave enough to go, are avoiding each other like they're told. Most people are working from home, except for essential employees like healthcare workers, law enforcement, grocery and drug store employees, delivery personnel, and restaurant workers for takeout service only. They are the current superheroes, and rightfully so. We get to stay clear of the germs. They have to work in the midst of the unknown, and healthcare and law enforcement are dealing with a severe shortage of protective gear.

Saying it's a really strange time is putting it mildly.

With social media and the internet, pandemic hysteria has swept the country and the world. For whatever reason it caused people to hoard toilet paper and buy up all the baking supplies like flour and yeast. For obvious reasons it's impossible to find hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes except online at jacked-up prices. Worse than that, common citizens have cleared the shelves of much-needed surgical and medical masks, creating the dangerous shortage for the medical community.

We could argue for days about why we've found ourselves in such a debacle, but what will that get us? Now that we're in the thick of it, knowing it will get worse before it gets better, it's time to step back away from the panic, take deep breaths and do what we're told -- wash our hands, stay 6 feet away from anyone you're not living with, and stay out of the few public places that are still open (grocery and drug stores, mostly) as much as possible. If you think all these precautions are silly and an over-reaction to something "not even as bad as the flu," that's your prerogative. If you're not concerned about yourself, think of anyone else around you, including those you love, who you could unknowingly infect by your carelessness!

As with all tragedies, this surreal world-wide situation has brought out the best in people and the worst. But the best are out-playing the worst. The words "What can we do" have filled the eerie silence hanging over the now idle city streets. People are digging into the cellar cabinets and donating masks they didn't realize they had; businesses whose employees use masks and have been temporarily shutdown are donating their masks to local hospitals and fire stations; dress makers, crafters, seamstresses and tailors are sewing masks in record numbers. According to the extremely grateful healthcare workers, although not ideal, a homemade mask is better than nothing. And Hollywood has stepped up with donations of medical equipment used in their tv shows and millions of dollars being donated by celebrities. Fundraisers are helping the many groups of now unemployed workers, and grateful citizens are reaching out to hospitals, police and fire with food donations to express their appreciation. And just as meaningful, children are sending cards to nursing home residents because they can't have visitors. The stories of goodwill are countless, and heartening.

Although we're all worried about how long this will go on, too many have no idea how they'll pay their bills or feed their families, and others are worried about losing their retirement as the stock market reacts to this uncertainty, we must all stay on this path of compassion and working together for the common good. And without forgetting the seriousness of it, keep your sense of humor and share it with others! Enjoy the many memes circulating on facebook, and your together time with your family. Call those you can't physically be with, and check on your neighbors, especially those who are truly alone. And don't forget to say a prayer or send comforting thoughts to those directly affected by the illness as well as all those on the front lines of this demon.

Wash your hands, stay apart and remember, this, too, shall pass. Together, with trust and faith in each other and God, we'll conquer Covid-19 and come out the other side better for it.