In 2016, I married my husband.
I assume you’re wondering, What’s that got to do with
Covid-19 in 2020?
The epic, memorable honeymoon we wanted—going to
England—seemed an extravagant expense right after we’d just bought a house. We
decided to delay our honeymoon, saved up, and in the autumn of 2018 made
arrangements. April 2019 would be our great adventure!
As the time drew close and our excitement grew, we worried
whether or not Brexit would have an impact. The Brits had pushed the switching
date right into the middle of our trip.
Then, a week before we were to leave, my mother had a
massive stroke.
Of course we canceled everything. She passed away on the day
we would have left. Instead of embarking on an epic trip to jolly old England,
I took the sad journey of grieving. In the autumn of 2019, we set a new date
for our trip: March of 2020.
This time, as the date approached we had a different worry:
Covid-19. The day we left, March 4th, there were 98 reported cases in the US
and 82 in the UK. The numbers were exploding in China, but not here and not at
our destination so we felt it was reasonably safe to go. (As I write this
there are nearly three million cases in the US. 125 days since we left.)
My seventeen-year-old son was left at home. The pantry was
stocked. Instructions for the washer, dryer, and dishwasher were posted. We
made sure to discuss some of the plot of the movie Risky
Business with him before leaving--not as inspiration, but as a warning:
we're savvy to any bad ideas he might have.
Upon arriving, jet-lagged but utterly stoked—we were finally
in ENGLAND!!!—the London Underground already had messages posted everywhere
about washing your hands and using sanitizer to stop the spread of Covid-19.
There was no way to forget the fact that the virus was
spreading.
Each day, we went out to see the sights, visit museums, or
fun stuff like going to touch the standing stones in Avebury. I even got a
picture of a lone little daisy—mom’s favorite flower—growing in a field. If
you've ever grieved a loved one, you understand what that meant to me. We ate
fish and chips and drank beer in a few pubs. We ate kebabs and steak-and-stout
pies and took thousands of pictures. Each evening, we’d return to a hotel room
and watch the British news and check in with home news.
We had not expected to be news-junkies on our honeymoon.
One week in, the actual numbers around us were yet in the three-digit range. We felt safe as we took the advised precautions and explored
London. Over the next five days, however, we watched from afar as our country
fell into the strangest chaos. The toilet paper shortage became a thing. There
was talk of the virus ‘beginning to alter the everyday life of Americans.’
Now, several months into this unquestionably altered form of
everyday life, everyone reading this has already experienced that early dismay,
confusion, and concern over what impact the virus might have. I hope that you
experienced it at home with your family there to comfort and support you as you
worked through the speculations.
We were 3700 miles away--an ocean away, with no family or
friends nearby, and my teenager was home alone. I know my son is a smart,
strong young man. BUT... like any mom, I was afraid that he might be harboring
some fear and I wasn’t there for him.
On March 12th, when there were 1,135 confirmed cases of
Covid-19 in the US and there had been 38 deaths, our President enacted a travel
ban—not including the UK. My husband wondered aloud how long it would be
until the UK was on the list. (The answer: four days.) We were supposed to remain
in England through the 21st.
The next day, the doom-laden day of the superstitious,
Friday the 13th, the President announced a state of emergency and Ohio Governor
DeWine said that the schools would close after Monday’s classes ended.
Those strong actions—especially the preemptive closing of
our local schools—made us change how we looked at the situation. Instead of
‘low numbers’ we looked for percentages. In the nine days since we’d left, US
cases had gone up over 1900%--and this was despite the commotion over tests not
being readily available. The UK had risen 700%.
Though I understood they were prioritizing tests for those
with symptoms and how that skewed the numbers, there was a huge difference in
how I felt about a few hundred cases and how I felt about a near-2000%
increase. Our cautious-but-optimistic mindset shifted into urgent concern. It
seemed imminent that this situation would erupt into a wildfire any moment….
That evening, my husband spent three hours on the phone trying
to change our flight. He would be put on hold, the call would time out and cut
him off. He’d call back and start from the bottom of the cue. He never got
through.
On March 14th, it was announced that at midnight on Monday
the 16th the travel ban would now include the UK. The confirmed cases in both
the US and in the UK had doubled in 48 hours.
My husband spent hours Saturday morning and afternoon trying
to get our return flights adjusted, all the while experiencing the same
helpless frustration as the prior evening. After discussion and some internet
checks, we found available seats on a different airline. For almost exactly
what it would have cost us to stay in hotels the 16th to the 21st (as
originally planned) we bought new tickets home.
Everyone on the flight was given papers when we boarded the
plane. We were told to fill them out and have them ready to give to customs at
JFK. However, no one at JFK customs was taking these papers. They simply
asked us where we were headed and sent us on our way.
The seventeen-year-old picked us up from the airport. We
planned to quarantine for at least two weeks as per standard recommendations. The
next morning US cases were 7,036 and the UK was 1,765. The US cases had
increased 7000% in 12 days.
Two days later I got sick, then the teenager got sick.
Seemed like a mild flu, but no fever, no coughing or lung congestion at all. We
recovered in a few days. My husband never felt ill. He'd been told by his
employer to quarantine and work from home for two weeks, but he never went back
to work. Our spare bedroom is now his office. My son had already been taking a
few college classes online, so he transitioned to high school online with
relative ease. His eighteenth birthday happened eleven days after our return. I
made his favorite dinner and a cake. It was certainly not the party he
wanted—but he never complained.
Since then, we’ve played cards, board games, watched shows
and movies. We’ve shopped as necessary--online if possible, and followed the
guidelines, wearing masks, maintaining social distance, and following the
directional arrows on the store’s floor even when no one else seems to. We've
developed some new hobbies, done work on the house. I'm definitely an indoor
girl, but I always have flowers on the deck. There's a little more attention
paid to those flower pots this year.
Our anniversary is coming up. Four years. The day he
proposed, we had dinner at a certain restaurant. We've returned there for every
anniversary and birthday since. A few months ago, we spent almost two weeks
taking every meal in a different British restaurant. Now, the one hometown
restaurant that has hosted us for many celebrations isn’t open. I feel for the
people out of work, but then we’re not ready to eat out yet.
Back in 2016, I never imagined that I’d be adding a global
pandemic to our honeymoon scrapbook. I’ve been putting the scrapbook together
recently. It's therapeutic and reviewing our pictures, talking about the trip
again has been a joy. Yes, the world dealing with Covid-19 impacted our
honeymoon, but it didn’t ruin it. In fact, we’ve been lucky. The virus hasn’t
stolen anyone close from us. We know others who weren’t so lucky. My heart
breaks for them.
Linda Robertson is an internationally published
novelist whose work has also appeared in several anthologies. As Linda
Reinhardt she's a musician and award-winning composer who has written,
performed, and produced full orchestral scores to accompany her novels and a few
short films. Her music is available on most streaming channels. www.lindarobertson.com
No comments:
Post a Comment