On Thanksgiving Day, our family will gather to give thanks. This year, it won’t be around a table filled with turkey and dressing, stuffed duck, cranberry sauce, and an assortment of pies and cakes.
It was tempting to ignore the warnings of medical experts and risk infection for the sake of maintaining a tradition, but we concluded that we can give thanks without turkey and cranberry sauce.
This year, we will gather around computer screens and cellphones connected by wifi and data plans in one giant “Zoom” session to give thanks together. Family members from Louisiana, Texas, California, Virginia, Mississippi, and a sprinkling of other states will assemble for a Thanksgiving family reunion that we hope will spark a family tradition.
The Coronavirus has touched many households in our extended family. Like others, we have battled sicknesses, mourned deaths, and watched our lives change.
The Journal of Medical Internet Research has reported that beginning in the last week of December 2019, there was a noticeable uptick around the nation of persons with flu-like symptoms that gradually increased as the new year began. Scientists finally identified this strange disease and called it the Novel Coronavirus-19.
Joslyn and I were in that first set of victims in the last week of December. It was the worst case of illness in our 70 years. It was first chills and fever, but then it became worse. My physician prescribed antibiotics that had little effect. Our cabinets were filled with every known remedy, from hot toddies to dozens of pill cocktails and syrups. Nothing worked.
I missed church that Sunday morning and called in a substitute. I was wrapped in a mountain of blankets, soaking wet with sweat and shivering. Then I received news that a member of our congregation, Osaro Kyles, died.
Despite having a fever of 102, I went to the Kyles family home to pray with them and stayed until Joslyn rushed me back home, coughing and shaking. It rained that day, and matters became complicated. For five more days, I was bed-bound, breathing hard and sweating.
A week later, I recovered enough to give remarks at the funeral of the late John L. Russell, Sr. and as soon as I finished, Joslyn had the city marshals to escort me out of the church, back to our home, which had become a sanitorium.
As I improved, Joslyn then came down with the same illness. She alternated between shivers and chills for nearly ten days. We tried the same toddies, remedies, and antibiotics. Nothing worked.
Around the second week of January, we had both sufficiently recovered only to learn of friends and relatives experiencing the same illness. Our hearts sank as we learned of husbands and wives and whole households of some of our friends who fell victims as well.
Like all families, we have had our share of challenges this year. Joslyn’s brother Gerald had a stroke. This man, who had been the symbol of strength among her siblings, instantly developed a disability and was unable to care for himself, speak or control his bodily functions. While dealing with that, Joslyn’s sister Sandra died (not Covid related) at about the same time.
Covid social distancing rules prohibited hospital and nursing home visits adding to our frustration. Sandra’s funeral service was a short graveside memorial.
Added to all of that, Joslyn had a freak accident and cracked two ribs. We’re dealing with that now.
It’s been a challenging year so far; our family has not been immune from death sickness or difficulties.
Despite all of the difficulties we have endured, we give thanks for God’s grace like everyone else.
Every family in our community has a similar story that will be told for decades to come. It’s the story of how we endured a tornado, two hurricanes, a deadly virus, sickness, deaths, and financial setbacks all in the same year.
The Bible says, “In everything give thanks.”
This year, more than any other, that has a special meaning.
