“He heard from his workplace that a co-worker tested positive for COVID-19. They’re writing each other letters, leaving sanitized little gifts, and cooking together over FaceTime. This week, he left a video game in our mailbox with a love note: ‘I wore a mask and gloves to sanitize this for you. Wash your hands and don’t touch your face. I love you.’”
“Within 2 weeks, she passed away in my arms. Even though I know my sweet Peanut girl got her wings that day, I was completely devastated. There are some pain days I want to kiss this little slice of earth behind, but I just can’t.”
“I would post our family pictures online as a record of our wonderful life. I can’t help but think she was only with us on borrowed time. If I’d known this, I would have had her sooner so I could have loved her and experienced Kinsley longer. 8 years wasn’t nearly long enough.”
“A much as I love having you on my couch and at my table—I don’t love how hard it is for you to be those places when you expected to be somewhere else right now.”
“I work for my town’s local grocery store. I have 3 children confined at home. Daily, I see fear on the faces down every aisle. I see huge, barren holes on shelves from panic. It never seems like enough. I know I’m not alone.”
“Tomorrow is my son’s birthday. I slacked too long and the gifts I ordered won’t arrive in time. I reassure myself by saying, ‘He’s only 4, he won’t be disappointed.’ But in my heart, I’m fuming. Who am I? Just 2 months ago I planned a birthday party extraordinaire for my oldest. This just isn’t like me. Any sort of structure we had is now gone.”
“I’d just been diagnosed with the flu on March 5th and started to feel better until this hit. I was cleaning the restroom when Dante came in and said, ‘Mom, what are you doing? Get out of the bathroom! You are putting on too much bleach!!! You are going to stop breathing!’”
“If you need help during this time, please call a therapist. You are not bothering us! We want to help you! We have never in our lifetime dealt with the loss of our lives as we have at this moment.”
“It was the 10-year mark of my job and I began to grow restless. I was at the top and there was no position above me to reach. I started thinking of myself as something or someone else. I was tired of holding things up. I wanted what I wanted. I had to be honest.”
“I scream for my husband, ‘DAVE. HELP!!! THERE’S NO MORE TOILET PAPER.’ He shoves in a random t-shirt from my drawer and a plastic trash bag. So, there I was. Going liquid. No TP. No time to prepare.”
