Proverbial Olive Branch: Has enough time gone by to reach out to the loved ones that shut the door in our faces?

Missing loved ones is hard. The pandemic has separated us physically and ideologically. Politics have somehow been the reason children are un-invited to Christmas dinner and other special occasions. How could your loved ones slam the door in your face based on differing opinions on something that is new and unknown? How can they be so scared of dying of something that is 99.99% livable without early intervention and statistically 100% livable with early treatments? 

But that was 2 years ago. 

Has enough time passed to send out the proverbial olive branch? Have tempers settled? Fears extinguished? The virus is endemic- basically it’s now “Cold, Flu and covid season”. We all have had it even if we haven’t tested positive. 

I’m scared.

Scared of rejection. One of my favourite family members, Diana, shunned me last winter. I didn’t want the vaccine for a variety of reasons but most importantly my gut told me it wasn’t right for me. So I waited. I confided my fears in Diana. She was the person that helped me take my child to the doctor when he was sick, helped me when I moved and even let me stay at her place the night I fled from my ex. She showed concern for my rationale of not getting the shot but persuaded me to ‘just get it over with’. 

A few weeks later, she wouldn’t let me come visit at Christmas unless I showed POV. For years, I had visited her and her family usually two nights between Christmas and New Years. We would have wine, stay up late and chat about lots of things. Many laughs would be had and it’s a time I cherish even now that it’s gone.

We really haven’t talked since. 

I miss her.

She lives in rural Nova Scotia and I’m on a vacation right now only 20 minutes from her house. I picked up my cell phone today at least a dozen times to text her “Hey, I’m in the area. Let’s get a coffee.” 

But the text remains unsent. 

My heart misses her but it cannot stand the possibility of her not being awake yet. Not understanding that the pandemic is over and maybe wasn’t even an emergency in the first place. That the response to the pandemic caused many more tragedies than the virus ever did. Sweden didn’t close their schools and there was no learning loss in their students. We did and the delays are just beginning to be seen. A mental health tsunami is on the horizon. Not from covid, but from our response. I won’t get into the sudden deaths throughout the world but it is likely the biggest elephant in the room that the world has ever seen. Florida just came out stating an 84% increase in the relative incidence of cardiac-related death among males 18-39 years old within 28 days following mRNA vacc-ination and they, along with Sweden, Denmark and the UK, have pulled the shot in younger people.

How can you not be awake yet? How can the pharm/gov cast such a powerful spell that hasn’t worn off yet? How can people not be awake yet?

I pick up my phone again. My heart breaks for missing the woman that would hike with me, laugh over a glass of wine and the godmother to my child. We’d jump in her vehicle and spend the day driving without a plan where we were going, exploring dirt roads and shops we’ve never been in before and likely would never see again, wind in our hair, smiles on our faces and always a story to tell at the end of the day. 

I miss her.

We haven’t seen her for almost a year. No reach out for the kids at Easter or end of school. This is the first year there were no presents or cards at Christmas for the kids from her. My kids don’t say anything but I wonder what they think when she’s mentioned or they see a photo. They didn’t do anything wrong but she divorced them as well. She was such a big part of their lives, and mine. Not only a family member but a good friend. Maybe my best.

I miss her but I just cannot push the send button.