BY Naomi Tewolde, SENIOR, INTREPID COLLEGE PREP INDEPENDENCE ACADEMY
I remember walking into my grandmother’s house for the first time in two months. I saw my cousins, all of my aunts and uncles, and the spirit in the air was one of happiness and finality— as in, we were finally reunited.
When Covid-19 first began wreaking havoc on innocent lives, I was truly unaware of its weight. My friends and I would joke about spraying Lysol on each other or jokingly give people dirty looks for coughing more than twice in a row. For the most part, I was clueless. So when we got a phone call saying we didn’t have school for a few months, it was a giant punch in the face of reality. When things changed, it felt as though they changed harshly. In all honesty, they truly did.
My family first adapted by remaining isolated in our respective homes. I felt the weight of not having those I loved most by my side. My cousins and I had been raised together, as siblings, so going two months without them was a nearly soul crushing experience. That is until my parents suggested that we might see them again.
My mom was on the phone talking to my aunt, as they did every night, and I simply heard the words, the kids will be surprised to see one another again. You see, the very next day was my little cousin’s sixth birthday. I was under the impression that there would not be a celebration taking place. I was upset by this, but not surprised— the year had taught me to always expect the unexpected. The next day we woke up early, and were told to get ready. We had no idea where we were going, or who we were going to see. So when my father pulled into the driveway of my grandmother’s house, I knew exactly what was going to happen. My sisters and I all felt the same enthusiasm and excitement.
We walked in and I immediately burst into tears. I hurriedly hugged everyone in the house. I shook with tears of shock and happiness. I was finally surrounded by those I love most. Prior to Covid, we’d go to my grandmother’s house all the time. We’d all be in our respective spaces. The kids would go upstairs to play on the Nintendo Switch, the adults would be in the front room drinking coffee and talking about politics, and I’d be watching TV or texting friends. This time it was different. All of us gathered around the living room, watched old home videos, laughed, talked, and simply felt peace. I was immensely grateful to be reunited with my loved ones.
Since then, we’ve remained together in an extended family bubble; we go from house to house, having frequent get-togethers. As we approach the holiday season, I constantly think about the blessings that permeate my life. I’m excited to regain at least a small sense of normalcy, as my family and I complete our Christmas traditions. We’ll still have our weekend gift buying trips— this year, with masks on. We’ll still get to do Secret Santa, and wonder which cousin has our name— this year, thinking more about intentions behind the gift rather than the gift itself. My cousins and I will still get to sleep over at our grandmother’s house, singing Christmas carols and eating copious amounts of chocolate. We’ll still have each other— along with a new appreciation for the time we get to spend together. I’m extremely grateful that I have these things to look forward to, because I’m aware, more than ever, that others certainly do not. As this holiday season arrives, I think about the traditions I get to keep even when it feels like nothing else in the world around me is how it used to be. This year, I’ve realized that the only thing I can’t handle is being without my family.
Author’s note: Hi, my name is Naomi! I’m a senior at Independence Academy, and writing has always been my release from daily struggles. I hope that my piece translates my emotions well, and that you, the reader, enjoy my perspective on Covid-19!
