Pandemia

I’ve always been into sci-fi and dystopian media – but who actually thought I’d be living it? The COVID pandemic is one of the most challenging experiences I have ever witness and endured in my life. I can’t recall ever wearing a face mask prior to 2020. Hand sanitizers were a thing I carried in my purse as a luxury – not a necessity. Some people say the death of Kobe Bryant was in an indicator of the times. Others think it was when Meghan Markle and Prince Harry had their “BREXIT”. But who can really say?
“The Pandemia” was what my mother-in-law called it. Others called it “The ‘Rona”. Especially young new Yorkers – you know we are quick to coin a phrase for everything. Regardless of the name, it affected you in some way, somehow.

Yesterday – The Beatles / “Yesterday (Cover) by Billie Eilish and Finneas, performed at the 2020 Oscars

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fP-epyqh-M

Who could forget the haunting dreamy whispers of Billie Eilish singing “Yesterday” at the Oscars? “Yesterday – All my troubles seemed so far away. Now it looks as though they’re here to stay. Oh, I believe, in yesterday”, she recites as Kobe Bryant’s face flashes across the screen. I cried watching this performance, not only because it was the “In Memoriam” portion of the show but in disbelief that Kobe Bryant had died two weeks before with his daughter in a helicopter crash. During this time, COVID seemed like a boogeyman – something discussed in the news but nothing that anyone had actually witnessed just yet. The parallels to the lyrics are uncanny because during this time, COVID was a trouble that seemed far away outside of the United States. Who knew that weeks later, New York would become the epicenter of the virus, shutting down schools, businesses and so much more. “Suddenly, I’m not the half the man I used to be. There’s a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.”

War – Pop Smoke, Lil TJay

It was the beginning of the semester at Queens College and this was the song I’d bump heading to school. The whole act of starting Queens College felt like going to war. I’d get myself geared up every morning (for what felt like “War”) — Air pods in, Doc Martens on, running in an oversized purple puffer coat two sizes too big because I was four months pregnant and couldn’t fit into anything else. I had no idea how to navigate the campus and received no formal orientation – so it was just me and my iPhone each day, learning how to navigate the campus with GPS. I downloaded the app for the bus schedule, which worked only when it wanted to. The trip to QC was stressful but hearing, “I don’t get mad, I get money. What you looking at, little dummy? I start buckin’ teeth like I’m Bunny and I back the Wraith out for nothin”, cracked me up every time. Three weeks into the semester, Pop would get shot to death on February 19^th.  It seemed surreal as the world watched in disbelief with videos of him being carried on a stretcher went viral on the internet. Less than 24 hours after accidentally posting his location online, people would break into his home, shoot him and leave him for dead. Who would’ve thought that one of New York’s most promising artists would’ve gotten killed at 19? Crazy. Perhaps this should’ve been a sign of the times back then, too, because exactly 1 month later, New York would go on lockdown.

You’re Somebody Else – flora cash

News of the pandemic became more frequent on the news. I watched as some of the strongest people I knew felt terrified of what was coming. My husband and mother in law would come home discussing what they were seeing at the hospitals. I’d hear from my mom the stories about her co-workers getting sick and being forced to quarantine in their homes. School transitioned to online learning and everyone was unsure of what was to come. “You look like yourself, But you’re somebody else, Only it ain’t on the surface” rang true as I watched the people and places I loved change around me. It was eerie going to the grocery stores and seeing the empty shelves. Or sitting with my husband and mother in law, trying to figure out what we should buy in case it went out of stock. Strategizing the best days and times to try going to Costco or Target to buy toilet paper and baby wipes, because they were completely sold out everywhere.

Every Single Thing – HOMESHAKE

It was April 1^st when my husband found out he had COVID. I remember feeling nervous when the results came into his phone via email from his job. I was in our bedroom while he was in the living room, where he had been for the past nine hours waiting for the results. He Facetimed me from the living room to let me know that the results were positive.

Positive for COVID-19.

My mind was racing – trying to re-trace our interactions over the past few days. This is what they now call “contact tracing”. I didn’t know if I had caught it myself. Or if Micah, our 1 year old, had it. Or what to expect if we did get sick. Or what would happen to Morris – would he make it or was this the end? I called my mom to tell her the news and she didn’t hesitate before telling me to come over. My mother in law agreed – that it wouldn’t be safe for us to stay there. Not for Micah. Or myself. Or our unborn baby. I packed everything as quickly as I could before leaving the apartment for what would be Two months. Yes – Two. Months.

“Feeling so out of touch, Staying inside too much. Introducing all these hands but I’m out of luck.”

Come Thru (with Usher) – Summer Walker ft Usher

I’d call Morris throughout the day but sometimes he wouldn’t answer. He was feeling too tired. Or too sick. I didn’t know if I was calling too much. Or if I wasn’t calling enough. I was seeing so many homeopathic remedies being suggested online – respiratory steams to help him breathe better. My mother sent over a garlic/honey mixture as well as a new asthma pump in hopes that it would help. But he wouldn’t bother. He said, “You should be careful giving out all of this advice, you’re not a doctor.”

I found myself feeling frustrated. And sad. And exhausted. And alone. Very much alone.

I spent the first two weeks in my mother’s house with a mask on. We wouldn’t talk much when she was home unless I was standing outside of her bedroom. Or through text messages.

There were so many narratives swirling about the virus. No one knew what to believe. From doctors coming out, stating that the virus was “Fake” to the viral “Plandemic” videos to disputes over how the virus was actually spread. Bottles of Lysol wipes and latex gloves, scrubbing down everything bought in the stores. My mind was in a daze. From baby kicks to sleepless nights — All I wanted was to be home. And after May came, I was.

I Like Him – Princess Nokia

July 20^th, the morning of my anniversary, Liam was ready to come into the world. Morris was the only one allowed to come. No other family members. Or friends.
Just my partner.

And me.

The hospital a different experience this time around, with me wearing a mask the entire time. He was a beautiful little bean, 7 pounds exactly. With Micah, they carried him away to clean him before giving him back to me. But with Liam, I held him right away.
When I brought him home, I made an Instagram story with this song, zooming in on his face while he was sleeping. my He was precious and absolutely perfect – a silver lining in the midst of the chaos. The calm after a storm.

Just Like Heaven – The Cure

 

And just like that – things have shifted again. My father in law passes away from COVID in El Salvador. The airports and borders are closed. No one can travel to attend the funeral service.

It was a difficult time. It still is.

Avenue Beat – F2020

 

We had a socially distanced Thanksgiving. And Christmas. Spent New Year’s at home watching the ball drop and exchanging text messages sending well wishes for the new year. Yet, there’s an eerie undertone to it all. To see Times Square on TV completely empty and desolate. To hear of all of the businesses shuttered throughout the city from the virus.

To know that there is still so much work to be done – to heal the world and ourselves after what we have witnessed in the past twelve months. There’s a sense of comfort that 2020 is over but also a lingering question of what truly lies ahead.