COVID Memorial Day

For those who lost a loved one to COVID-19, the first Monday in March is recognized as COVID Memorial Day. It’s hard to believe that it’s been five years since the virus started ripping through countries around the world.

My life’s journey, and many other people’s life journeys, will be marked as “before COVID” and “after COVID.” That’s probably a very common experience for people who have experienced trauma.

Thank god for the organization Marked by COVID. It is dedicated to memorializing everyone who died of the horrific disease. I have attended many virtual vigils and events hosted and sponsored by the organization since 2020. The team created a beautiful augmented reality memorial and hope to establish a memorial in Washington someday. I am so grateful to have a space in which I can be in community to remember the 1.2 million+ people who died (and are still dying), including our friend Patricia.

I wrote this one year after her death from COVID.

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June 2021

Do you know what it’s like to hold the collective grief of 600,000 people in your mind? In your body? I do.

My partner’s best friend died of COVID a year ago in June. As most of us get vaccinated, and most states lift all restrictions, including mask wearing and social distancing, I am still wearing a mask and wiping down high-touch surfaces in my apartment every morning with a Clorox wipe. Even though my partner and I are both fully vaccinated, and I’ve read time and time again that transmission from surfaces is almost non-existent, I am still washing my hands every time I enter my apartment, after touching my mail, after putting away groceries.

I cannot stop from doing these things. Yes, you can call me paranoid and you can call me silly or worse. But I don’t want to take any chances. When your otherwise healthy friend is hospitalized for weeks and can’t be taken off a ventilator because of ICU terrors, then has multiple strokes and her family decides to take her off life support, and then languishes for three weeks before she dies, you don’t want to take any chances.

And if there is a 3% chance that I spread COVID to an unvaccinated person and I can spare one family the grief shared by 5.4 million people in this country, I will keep wearing my mask and taking other precautions. When you know someone who has died a horrible death of COVID, no percentage of risk is too small for you to continue to take mitigation measures.

I’ve been scared for my life and my family’s lives for 15 months now. I can’t turn this fear off like a switch. Thankfully, I can be a little less scared now that most of us are vaccinated.

And let’s talk about the COVID long-haulers for a moment. Add all of the long-haulers to the collective grief I carry. They are constantly on my mind as well, because I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia a few years ago. Some of the long-haulers’ symptoms are similar to mine. My normal life ended once I started experiencing these symptoms. Luckily, I have a mild case and found a medication that helps me lead a somewhat normal life. But will all the long-haulers be so lucky?

When I really stop to think about what has happened in this country, as well as every other country, it’s too overwhelming. It’s too painful to dwell on the grief, but I carry the weight of it.

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Tonight, I will remember Patricia and honor all of the lives lost and the lives impacted during Marked by COVID’s vigil, as I do every year. Never forget.