In the fight against the coronavirus, I have to say that through all of the sacrifices that are being made, both in finances and freedoms, I believe the grieving population in the country is bearing the greatest weight.
There are a lot of people right now dying alone in nursing homes and hospitals, despite the best efforts of their friends and families.
I had a friend recently relay her story of a dying grandmother who was not able to say a proper goodbye, despite days of advance notice. The nursing home she was staying in allowed just one visitor per day and the woman’s children were barely able to visit her one last time.
This left my friend saying goodbye to her grandmother through a cellular phone held by a family member. No hug. No moment to hold her hand while she was told how much she was loved. No final kiss.
A finger pushing the disconnect button on a mobile phone was the end to a more than 40-year, loving relationship.
Is that fitting? That is how we send people out of this world? This is the best we can do to help grieving families cope? Are these the memories that families will carry?
I fully understand the danger in letting visitors into nursing homes unchecked. These are our most vulnerable citizens and the virus could decimate an entire facility.
But come on.
This is not the same as closed schools, lost jobs or canceled vacations. All of those things will come back after the virus fades. People call weddings once-in-a-lifetime events, but are they? The same couple can be married in October as easily as in April.
The only other event in life that is truly once-in-a-lifetime is a birth and that is a completely different dynamic. When a baby is born, seeing the child for the first time is the special moment, so rushing to the hospital isn’t an absolute need.
But death – the passing of a friend or family member – that’s the end. It’s a one-act play and there is no encore. You get one shot to say goodbye and if a loved one is on death’s doorstep, the family should be afforded a chance to offer their final sentiments.
When my father was dying a few years ago, it was apparent and my family was allowed to say our goodbyes. My father and I had kind of a “manly” relationship, so we didn’t act particularly affectionate or share emotions, but in my final moments with my dad, I was able to share some things that I had kept bottled up for decades. I feel better because of that and I can’t imagine denying someone that opportunity if at all possible.
I know some people will say that I’m thinking about this emotionally, not medically. That sacrifices must be made for the good of all. But I can tell you that some in the medical field don’t feel that way.
I have a friend who works as a nurse in an area extended care facility. She told me about sitting bedside with a kind old man, holding his hand and crying as he died. It wasn’t his passing that brought her to tears, she said, because death is routine in a nursing home. She cried because he didn’t deserve to die alone. She told me rather bluntly that the facility, and in fact this entire reaction to the virus, has lost sight of its purpose.
We are in this world to live and love. We share and learn, lifting people up and trying to make the world a better place, now and for future generations. We are here to live, not survive.
I fear in trying to preserve humanity, we are losing our humanity.
-Chad Williamson is the managing editor at the Journal-Tribune.