Novel Corona Virus

 Novel: new, a book. Corona: a beer. Virus: mutant cells attacking my body, something that happens to computers. I don't know where I got it or when I got it. I was pretty shocked to see the results about 5 p.m. Sunday. I tested that morning after feeling achy and coughing when I woke up. I didn't want to go to work without knowing. 

Remember at the beginning of the pandemic when quarantine was 14 days if you were anywhere near it? I couldn't, and still can't imagine being locked in a room that long. With being triple vaxxed, I just heard this term Saturday, I only have to stay in my room and be waited on for 5 days. I'm not allowed back to work for 10 days. That's 1/19. I was hoping I could return Monday. The days are going faster than I expected. I have a few little tasks I can do with Pat out of the house most of the day. I fixed a salad, watched TV, and did some laundry. This blog and some financial tasks are still on my "to do." 

I am reading old newspapers, a novel "The Alice Network" (a little WWI and post-WWII drama), and napping. A lot of napping. When I'm sick in bed it makes me think of Adam's last days. If this is a bit of what he felt like, and he had no hope of it ending, I get it. I wish he would have thought of other alternatives, or been able to ask for help. I could have gone to Springfield and helped him get help. I could have paid out of pocket. We could be living a different life right now. I've just learned of two fresh suicides, young men. I'm so, so sorry that we aren't doing a better job helping people cope. I don't want to only be on the back end, supporting survivors. Even if I feel I'm terrible at it, I am going to try to reach more people in 2022 with educational programs and opportunities for people to see that's it's okay to talk to someone. When I do this work it feels scary, and good. When I doubt myself, I say, "Somebody's got to do it." 

We are coming up on that day, six years ago. Yes, the cold, stark January leads me to thoughts of February 2, 2016. We thought everything was going along fine, and then it was not. I will have to settle for knowing maybe I can help someone else. 

Out of the Darkness Walks

 My brief reprieve from chairing our local OOTD Walk is over. It's January and time to start planning for Walk 2022. It will be our seventh year.

My purpose today is to put into words what this walk means to me. The obvious is that it is my (our) one time during the year for us survivors of suicide loss to pay public tribute to those we have lost to suicide. We can see each other and others can see us, and maybe remember to be a little kinder, a little more vigilant with those we worry about. Perhaps someone will be driving by and having suicidal thoughts and see the signs: You Are Not Alone, Stop Suicide, and reconsider their plans. Yes, this did happen at least once that we know of. There may be another survivor driving by who has never talked about their loss, and decides to look us up and attend next year. It's not so scary. 

Personally, this is my gift to Adam, the least I can do to bring about awareness and change in our little spot in the world. I have been given in return the greatest gift to come out of his horrible loss. Friendships and support deeper than I could have imagined. You see, you understand, you fervently hope this doesn't happen to you. Whatever the connection, it feeds my soul and keeps me going in honor of the boy-man who made me a Mommie. This one's for you, Nuke!