COVID-19 has my life looking like the last scene from “The Color Purple.”
After the spread of the virus, the year-long quarantine, the absence of grandparents during holidays, the new arrival of the vaccine fills me with both glee and reluctance. That duality is no stranger in my life. While I’m fully aware of the horrid historical “experiments” related to African Americans and medicine, I also feel like we’re at a turning point. Any hesitation is offset by the need to be reunited with friends and relatives, especially when kids are in the equation.
Over the weekend, my mom, stepmother, and dad all had the opportunity to hug, kiss, bathe, feed, and say, “Stop, JoJo!” to their only grandson. They’ve all been recently vaccinated, and seeing these emotions on display after 12 months of separation was enough to make me teeter between bellowing and exhaling in the same breath. It seems we’re nearly over the worst of it, and able to see past the smoke of 2020, and continue on with life in the manner that we’re meant to.
It’s been a long year. My patience has been tested, as well as my focus. Being locked away from the ones I love, not being able to meet or eat or drink together, has been a repeated gut punch. Even worse has been setting boundaries with our son when outside of our home, knowing he shares the same neighborly approach to life and strangers as his mother and me. It almost brings me to tears when we have to stop him from getting too close to other kids, or family.
Now, though some boundaries have been relaxed, my wife and I remain vigilant about keeping our household safe. But damn, it feels good to finally see those grandparents smile again. As the saying in Charleston goes: “They so happy, as if they had good sense.”
