Slice of Life Writing Challenge – March 13, 2021
The appointment is scheduled for 1:15. My husband will receive his vaccination today as part of the educator group at our local convention center. A retired school counselor, he enjoys subbing in a nearby district, but hasn’t since March 13, 2020, exactly one year ago. We agreed our first priority was staying safe and available for both of our elderly mothers. He’s looking forward to getting back once he’s vaccinated. We’re looking forward to many things.
Silently anxious, I hope he doesn’t have a reaction the way my daughter did earlier this week. Her text warned, Holy crap! The side effects of that vaccine (J&J) are no joke! I feel like I got hit with a quick and severe case of the flu. She used a sick day from teaching high school English. Teachers are notorious for battling through for the sake of their students. I’d done it for thirty-two years. Just a heads up for when you get yours, Dad, she messaged. With plenty of March Madness games to watch on tv, it’s not a problem for him to take it easy this weekend, he texted in return.
Silently praying, I hope this injection will allow him to move forward with plans to celebrate his mother properly after a makeshift funeral during Covid-19 that just didn’t cut it. No out of town family. Immediate family only. No church ladies or card group companions. No stories. No heartfelt embraces. Only masks and hand sanitizer.
Silently wishing and hoping she knows that she was right. The end is in sight. Your son is getting vaccinated today. Willing to give up Christmas in hopes of our tradition of a huge Fourth of July family gathering, she encouraged us to be patient. Her positive outlook and wisdom that only comes with a life well lived, told us that some day this would be over. That is why we played by the rules. We followed the CDC guidelines, even when others didn’t, or wouldn’t. We quarantined for the recommended two weeks.
Silently grateful for the time we were able to spend together just two weeks before she unexpectedly passed away one week before Christmas, and silently hoping my anger eases with time. I didn’t get the chance to give her the red and blue quilt I made for her, her two favorite colors. I didn’t get to do too many things. I still expect to call her and ask her how to do this and how to do that.
Silently hoping this injection is the turning point. I’ll be the next to get vaccinated allowing life to move forward. For now, we’ll just sit back and watch basketball.