COVID-19 Deaths Month 10: December

 

Remember when we were horrified the death toll was nearing 100,000?

Hold onto some of that horror. Nothing should feel normal right now. The hospitals are getting full again. The medical staff are still running, as they have been since March. Only now they're tired. They're getting sick. They're dying, too. What happens when there aren't enough staff to care for the ill? Will we prioritize it then?

Be vigilant. Stay safe. Mask up when you have to go out. Be mindful of everything you touch. Wash your hands. Wash your masks. Stay home as much as you can.

[And be understanding of your possible privilege vs. other people's limitations. Staying home isn't easy for everyone. For example, the poorest of our people are the ones who work those drive-thru windows people are counting on right now. That one stimulus check has been long gone and bills are still due.]

Neighbors on both sides of us have all contracted COVID-19 because they have to work essential service jobs.

We can see another side coming. The doctors, nurses, and teachers I know are starting to get their first vaccine shot. We can see the other side we just have to survive the in-between. More and more people will have access to the vaccines after the essential workers get them. We have made it this far. We can be a bit more patient yet.

We have to be. Our ancestors are asking it of us.

 

I continue to pray that this does not get worse. Our numbers were so much better than I expected them to be this summer but they have been climbing again since the holiday season started. I get the Want involved with seeing family. I get why it felt more important this year. There have been years I have had to miss a holiday with my family for work reasons. It did not feel as much of a loss then as it felt this year. I get it. My family had a health scare this summer. It hurt not to see them.

 

But I know three people who were not allowed to be with a parent when they died this year because of the necessary COVID-19 protocols. That is a sacrifice they were forced to make. So, a quiet holiday at home? I can do that. I can do that for them. What my community Needs of me outweighs what I need or want.

 

The basic news still applies. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Six feet apart. Isolate.

 

Don’t try to pretend things are normal.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don;t care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In December, we lost seventy-one thousand eight-hundred and forty-three Americans.

71,843

That's near the total population of the city of Mt. Vernon, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 360,737 Americans have died of it.

 

Over 300,000 Americans have died and we are very near to 400,000.

 

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

This is the solstice, the still point

of the sun, its cusp and midnight,

the year’s threshold

and unlocking, where the past

lets go of and becomes the future;

the place of caught breath, the door

of a vanished home left ajar.

 

~Margaret Atwood

My Family & the Flu of 1918

[Stock photo]

It's October in America. Some of us have been living under restrictions and in isolation since March. I know people who have lost family members they did not get to see. In this country we have currently lost 208,000 deaths from COVID-19. There have been over 1 million deaths globally.

How can we find hope and strength while still in the midst of this pandemic?

The Flu of 1918

I looked to our history. And I looked to my history. This is not our first pandemic that has required masks and isolation. Some media call it the Influenza Epidemic of 1918 or the Influenza Pandemic. Most commonly it is known as the Spanish Flu. That is a misnomer (I'll explain that below). 

The Flu of 1918 first made its appearance in March of that same year in the case of an Army cook in Kansas. It spread through the Camp but was not seen to be deadlier than an average flu. Then the troops were deployed. America had joined World War I in April of 1917. Our troops brought the new flu to England with them and it spread through Europe, through the French and British troops in April and May.

So why do we know it as the Spanish Flu of 1918? None of the other countries were publishing any news that could be harmful to their troops and stories of illness among the soldiers counted. Spain was the only country putting out information about this new and deadly flu and they were the first country to write about it. 

[Stock photo]

The second wave of the 1918 Flu was far deadlier than the first. Just as the deaths seemed to ebb in August, the virus mutated and troops returned from England infected with a new strain. The most brutal months occurred in the fall of 1918, from September to November.

In the month of October 1918 alone, 195,000 Americans died of it. The new strain claimed the lives of the old and very young as well as previously healthy adults in their prime and their deaths were horrific to the medical community. Medical science didn't understand what viruses were let alone the cytokine explosion effect the pandemic had on it's victims. 

Life in Buffalo NY

All of my ancestors who were alive during the Flu of 1918 lived in Western New York, close to Lake Ontario. People stayed inside as much as possible. Schools and theatres and stores closed. Everything was shut down. People tried whatever remedies they could conceive, like wearing bags of camphor around their necks.

Everyone wore masks. The mayor of Buffalo restricted gatherings of more than 10 people. All restrictions were enforced, and many enforced within the community itself. But there were groups that tried to get special dispensation to gather and meet. Of course there were. There was even a large anti-mask group that rose up in San Francisco, claiming their Rights were being infringed upon.

During a global health crisis.

Towns along the railroads were particularly afflicted as it spread. So many medical people were overseas aiding the war effort that hospitals and casket makers were overwhelmed. There were just too many cases and too many dead.

It has happened before. It could happen again. Where can we find strength after such a long period of isolating when we know it s not over yet?

My Great-Great Grandparents' World

I wanted to know the names and faces of my ancestors who had lived to see such times before and I checked my family tree to see who was alive during the worst months of the pandemic.

My great-great-grandmother Theresa Tenney-Eaton, a widow, was 58. She lived in Somerset NY and was the head of house, living with her son, William Bennett, 38, and his wife, Lena, 40. Their five children were also living with Theresa. On September 12, during the worst months of virus, William registered his World War I draft card. All survived.

Roy Eaton & Hattie Smith  & family

Theresa's other son and my great-grandpa Royal Eaton, 45, and his wife Hattie Eva Smith, 36, lived in Auburn NY with their three children, including my Grandpa Mark who was just three years old. Great-grandpa Roy also registered his WWI draft card on Sept 2, during the thick of the flu. All survived.

Emma Whitcher, Ruth Ruston, & Ruth Ireland

My 2x great-grandparents Charles Ruston, 64, and Ruth Ireland, 57, were living in Lockport NY with their daughters Maude, 36, and Ruth, 21. All survived.

Their son and my great-grandpa Frank Ruston, 29, and his wife Minnie Wicker, 27, had been married for five years. Their oldest child, my Grandma Ruth, was 2. Minnie's mother, my widowed 2x great-grandma Emma Whitcher-Wicker, was 70 years old and lived with them in Lockport NY, along with a schoolteacher boarder. All survived.

Katherine Pils & young grandchildren

My German great-great-grandparents George Art, 47, and Katherine Pils, 45, were servants working for the wealthy Kenan family. The couple were living with their youngest two children, Walter, 23, & Alice, 20. All survived.

Their eldest son, and my great-grandpa Robert Art, 25, and his wife Margaret Burke, 24. had been married and living in Lockport for five years. They had two small daughters, the youngest having been born just that same year. There had been a second daughter who died in 1916. All alive during the flu survived.

In Newfane NY my great-great-grandparents Lafayette Riddle, 48, and Frances Gillette, 43, still had four kids home on the farm and my great-grandpa Harold, 15, was one of them. All survived.

Even my great-great-great-grandparents Albert Durant, 76, and Rosella LaValley, 75, both of Quebec origins, survived, though Albert died two years later and Rosella the year after him.

Elsie Durant, far left in glasses, and other Durants

Their son, my great-great-grandpa George Durant, 39, and Emma Louise Burnah, 49, were newly living in Lockport, having moved from Piercefield NY. My great-grandma Elsie, 13, was the last of their children still at home.

The End of the Flu of 1918

At the time, PA state medical inspector W.E. Matthews said, "The most dangerous time of all is right now, when the disease is disappearing. There is always the possibility of people letting up in their precautions or not taking the precautions that are so necessary in checking the spread of the disease." 

[Stock photo]

He was right. There was a third wave of deaths, with as high a count as the second one. History believes the virus ebbed when the war ended because we stopped shipping and mobilizing troops around the world, cross-contaminating our countries.

The pandemic lasted from 1918-1919. It killed 2-5 million people globally. Over 675,000 Americans died of it over two years. We're at 208,000 after seven months.

And Now?

History teaches us that there will be an end to this version of pandemic. We know that we have medical knowledge and technology we didn't have then. There are reasons to be hopeful. But we have to do our part.

The second wave has not struck us yet. 

Wear your masks to protect other people from your germs. Wear your masks to protect you from other people's germs. Wash your hands regularly. Socially-distance for real. Isolate if you feel unwell. Invest in a thermometer.

May we all come through the other side of this. 

COVID-19 Deaths Month 4: June

Most of my friends are working from home. All of my friends in the entertainment world are facing uncertain futures. There are still areas of the country that are not enacting safety protocols. There are still people who think the virus is a hoax. A lot of my friends are in the kind of jobs that require them to work and interact with the public. I worry for them. 

There is grief this month, in the events and gatherings that are being necessarily canceled. Virtual versions are happening and, while they are better than nothing, it is also highlighting for me how much physical recharging I receive from them. This year I must find another way.

We entered Phase Two reopening in New York but places like indoor restaurants and malls and movie theatres and gyms and amusement parks, etc are still closed to the public. I have seen parks registering more use and traffic than usual. (It’s worth noting that most public restrooms are closed.) A lot of businesses that can be open now have to scale back on their employees because of the small size of the business so there’s no one to do extra work of cleaning out the bathroom after someone uses it. Right?

Due to my extended isolated recovery I may have been better prepared for all of this seclusion. But it still affects me. It may just take a little longer. So many Americans are already over the isolating and some others have not even started it. I worry this country is too large to come together to care for each other and halt the spread. I worry that the summer months will bring carelessness with it.

The global numbers are disheartening. The speed of this virus is unsettling. And if this is going to be a long haul, we need to take care of ourselves.

 

We are learning more everyday. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that. The basic news still applies. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Six feet apart. Isolate.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In June, we lost forty-seven thousand one-hundred and twenty-six Americans.

47,126

That's near the total population of the city of Binghamton, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 151,151 Americans have died of it.

 

 

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

Mindful

 

Everyday

I see or hear

something

that more or less

kills me

with delight,

that leaves me

like a needle

in the haystack

of light.

It was what I was born for —

to look, to listen,

to lose myself

inside this soft world —

to instruct myself

over and over

in joy,

and acclamation.

Nor am I talking

about the exceptional,

the fearful, the dreadful,

the very extravagant —

but of the ordinary,

the common, the very drab,

the daily presentations.

Oh, good scholar,

I say to myself,

how can you help

but grow wise

with such teachings

as these —

the untrimmable light

of the world,

the ocean’s shine,

the prayers that are made

out of grass?

~ Mary Oliver

 

COVID-19 Deaths Month 3: May

The virus is taking lives across all continents. At the end of this month we passed 100,000 dead Americans. I now believe we will need to sequester ourselves through the summer. I continue to pray that it does not get worse. In New York we entered Phase One of reopening, but it’s still tightly controlled. Those who can open have strict protocols they must follow. Still no gatherings.

None of our stores are open 24 hours anymore as they need the night to deep clean before they open again. Some stores have special senior hours in the morning so that they don’t have to worry about crowds.

There are talks of reopening more if the numbers stay good, at the same time that there are news and media reports of customers shooting people and getting angry and spitting on retail employees because they’re being asked to wear a mask. A lot of my friends work the kind of jobs that require them to be in public and interact with people. I am hearing stories. worry for them. 

We need to cultivate patience and compassion. They will help us help each other get through this.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

 

In May, we lost forty-five thousand nine-hundred and thirty-eight Americans.

45,938

That's near the total population of Freeport, NY in 2010.

Since the rise of the pandemic 104,025 Americans have died of it.

 

Over 100,000 Americans have died of covid-19.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

*

A Contemplative Poem for the Month

Small Kindnesses

I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk

down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs

to let you by. Or how strangers still say “bless you”

when someone sneezes, a leftover

from the Bubonic plague. “Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons

from your grocery bag, someone else will help you

pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile

at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress

to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other, now. So far

from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these

fleeting temples we make together when we say, “Here,

have my seat,” “Go ahead—you first,” “I like your hat.”

 

~Danusha Laméris

COVID-19 Deaths Month 2: April

Many more areas of the world are under stay-at-home or lockdown orders. We in New York are on a state lockdown. If you have to shop, send one person out for shopping and only for the essentials. No gatherings. No in-person religious services. Even the Pope is asking people to stay home for Easter.

The virus is spreading rapidly in the big cities. The news from my friends in New York City is something of a nightmare. What we're hearing out of Italy is frightening.

I am reading all of the science as it comes out. I am also praying it does not get worse. We only know what we know until we learn it to be untrue. The science will change as we learn new things about this particular virus. It's important that we stay open to that.

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation. That isolation is necessary. This month's death toll multiplied. I can barely hold the number in my mouth.

 

In April, we lost fifty-five thousand, three hundred, and thirty-two Americans.

55,332

That's near the total population of White Plains, NY in 2010.

  

Light a candle. Say a prayer. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. If you think you are ill isolate yourself for 72 hours. If you think you have been exposed quarantine yourself for 14 days before exposing anyone else to you. Video chat with your loved ones. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website. They have changed as the numbers have come in, so there is some wiggle room around the exact number.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

I Worried

 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers

flow in the right direction, will the earth turn

as it was taught, and if not how shall

I correct it?

 

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,

can I do better?

 

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows

can do it and I am, well,

hopeless.

 

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,

am I going to get rheumatism,

lockjaw, dementia?

 

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.

And gave it up. And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

 

~ Mary Oliver

COVID-19 Deaths Month 1: March

In New York we have been under stay-at-home orders since March 13. There is a virus spreading swiftly across the continents. The information we're getting now is likely to change as this is a new virus but some of the science is consistent.

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. Limit social contact. If you feel sick isolate yourself for three days. If you think you may have been exposed quarantine for two weeks.

I pray it does not get worse.

It is strange to be under orders to stay-at-home but I understand the necessity of halting the spread. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that the aisles of toilet paper and paper towels and antibacterial sprays and wipes are empty.

We had our first covid-19 death in Broome County on the Spring Equinox. It feels very real here now. I am welcoming in spring by watching our country’s death toll rise, praying for it to crest, wishing it to go down. My spirituality honors the dead and I cannot look away from the numbers of souls the virus is claiming.

How bad is this one going to be?

I check the total dead each day. I have a list of numbers. Every night at midnight I light my ancestor altar. I call on those who have weathered plagues and mysterious illnesses that swept through villages and cities. I call on my foremothers and fathers who lost loved ones, and those who lost their own lives in such times. I ask them to guide the dead. I ask them to watch over the living. I ask them to wrap the world in some measure of peace.

And then I chant the number of souls who died that day. I chant it seven times. I wish them ease. I wish them peace. I sometimes cry for their families, for the ones who died alone. Especially for the ones who died alone. Viruses don't care about human need. I try to remember that.

It's a simple ritual. It keeps me mindful of what is happening outside of my own isolation.

In March, two thousand, seven hundred, and fifty-five people died.

2,755

That's the total population of Roslyn, NY in 2010. 

Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Stay six feet apart. We can do this. May we all come out the other side.

 

[Statistics gathered from this W.H.O. website.]

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A Contemplative Poem for the Month

 

no one told the trees

 

gatherings of more than ten

have been canceled

so they put on all their best blooms

and celebrated shamelessly under the sky

 

reminding me that all I need

is sunlight, a gentle rain, and a

little bit of fresh air.

 

happy spring.

 

~ eila carrico