It's Personal not Political

This morning I was reflecting during my devotional time and my thoughts fell on my aunt Ghuetty. From time to time, I still burst into tears as I think about the journey of grief she had to recently embark on. In June, her husband of over 30+ years died from complications of COVID-19. He was an essential worker and worked hard all his life. Born in Haiti and migrated to the US for a better life for his family, he settled in the big apple.

I remember when my aunt called my mom. She could barely get the words out. “Valentine couldn’t breathe, so we took him to the hospital.” We were in shock. I remembered my mom frantically asking: What were the symptoms? How long before he couldn’t breathe? Why didn’t you say anything? I could hear the pain in my aunt’s voice, “I thought it was going to be okay.”

I cannot properly describe the next 6-8 weeks. I won’t even make an attempt. Just know I am acquainted with the horrid sounds of what it means to hear someone grappling with a loved one being okay one day (with no pre-existing conditions), contract COVID, get on a ventilator, and never come home again.

When we heard word that he had passed, a deafening silence hit the room. We were heartbroken. He was such an incredible man and an exceptionally loving husband to my aunt. Actually right before he got sick, she recounts, “We moved into a bigger apartment and got a California king bed. Now, I am in a bigger apartment and a bigger bed alone. What manner of agony is this?”

My mom did not think twice. After months of taking her own precautions and staying locked in. She braved the airports and entered the epicenter of the pandemic to be right there for her sister. I cried (for my aunt and my mom).

Let me be clear, my aunt would have worn a thousand masks, lock herself up the smallest room, surrender her job, home and life savings for the one thing she can never replace- her husband. This pandemic should never be used as a political tool (for either side of the aisle).

My heart aches for my aunt and all those around the world who are grieving. They would give everything to be in our shoes- merely bored, stressed, unemployed, or tired of wearing a mask. For those dealing with the worse possible outcome, it’s excruciatingly personal not political.

I leave you with a piece of advice from my aunt’s experience. “Cherish life, hold your loved ones near, and live life to the fullest. Yes, life has to go on- live it. As for me, I am taking it one painful breathe at a time.”

In loving memory of my uncle Jean “Valentine” Thelamour. You will never be forgotten. Thank you for providing for and loving my aunt even to your dying breath. Rest in God.