Recently, while preparing my six-year-old for bed in my childhood room, I felt the weight of the day’s journey and joy from reconnecting with family. I was eager to unwind, letting the fatigue envelop me. Just then, I caught a glimpse of my mom peering in to say goodnight. As soon as my daughter spotted her, she sprang up for yet another enthusiastic hug. After returning to her bed, I tucked her in and casually said, “Goodnight, Mom, see you in the morning.”
Those simple words caught in my throat, and I struggled to hold back my emotions. Once my daughter was settled and my mom retreated to her room, I took a few deep breaths and sat down on the edge of the bed. With the weight of the past year pressing heavily on me, I buried my face in my hands and quietly cried.
Since the pandemic began, I have been deeply concerned for my parents’ wellbeing. Countless nights have been spent awake, worrying about their safety and whether I was doing enough to protect them. Each time my mom sneezed or my dad mentioned feeling unwell, my mind would spiral into worst-case scenarios.
Every sniffle and ache felt like a potential harbinger of tragedy. With nearly 550,000 families in the U.S. having suffered profound losses due to this virus, the fear was palpable. To cope, my parents and I began frequent FaceTime calls, primarily to see each other’s faces and provide updates on our lives during lockdown. Then, a few months ago, my mom surprised me with the news: “We have our appointment next week.”
Panic surged through me. What kind of appointment? Was it serious? But then she clarified, “For our vaccine.” I was momentarily speechless. After months of anxiety, the thought of them actually getting vaccinated took my breath away.
However, my mom didn’t share my excitement. They had been isolated for almost a year due to fears of vulnerability, often contemplating their mortality. The vaccine was necessary, yet doubts lingered. Even the act of attending the appointment felt risky.
Despite their fears, they both received their shots without issue. We counted down the weeks recommended by their doctors, eagerly anticipating our visit.
That trip was significant. For the first time in a year, I could hug my parents without the dread that my touch could jeopardize their lives. Although the world was still far from normal, alleviating my parents’ immediate health risks felt transformative for my family.
My heart aches for those who have lost loved ones to COVID-19. The stories of individuals doing everything right yet still falling victim to the virus resonate closely, affecting not just acquaintances but often our own loved ones.
Saying goodnight to my mom was not merely emotional; it was a momentous occasion. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to embrace my parents again. Their vaccination restored that connection, allowing us to cherish time together again.
While the pandemic is not over, it’s essential to celebrate these small victories. Today, I honor the joy of being able to say goodnight to my mom, and I look forward to many more moments like this.
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In summary, the relief of my parents getting vaccinated has brought a profound sense of comfort and hope during these challenging times, allowing cherished moments to resume, despite the ongoing pandemic.