On this date 1/28/2021 – one year ago – I went into the hospital with Covid19 and because I was having trouble breathing because of that whole pesky pneumonia thing.
My family spent the next 36 days feverishly (pun intended) sending my health updates to Facebook and Instagram sending out updates and asking for prayer. Which, by the way, is what I believe kept me alive.
They were texting back and forth things like: “Mom opened her eyes today,” and “she seemed to recognize my voice.”
It was heartbreaking to read their concern and hopefulness.
They texted about when they talked to the doc and when I was able to swallow. They texted that I blew them broken kisses through my intubation and when I was finally able to take two steps.
They texted each other their fears and news to the tune of 35 pages worth of words.
Tonight we printed out all that pain and love and read it out loud and burned each page as we went.
My kids had so much fear that they might be losing their mom. My husband was experiencing the unthinkable in the possibility that he’d have to bury his wife.
I was isolated from those I loved most and worried about their health and safety. And I was frustrated that I was so unable to express my love and concern.
Also, Lucy was pregnant I couldn’t be with her!
Tonight I read their words out loud and allowed myself to really feel their pain and sadness during that terrible time.
My kids were absolute champs.
They coordinated home care and created a place for me to recover.
They organized meals and visits. They took care of Eric while he was recovering too.
I am seriously the luckiest person ever to have such amazing humans on my side.
And tonight they all revisited the fear in those 36 days we were separated. And so we burned words and hugged and cried. So so grateful we ALL survived.
365 days and tonight we gave closure to that terrible chapter of our lives.
God is good.
COVID is a b*tch.
Be like Marta. 🖖🏼😎