Thank You, Covid
By: William P.
I slowly closed the door and tiptoed back to my bed so I wouldn’t wake the rest of my family. I could hear my parents snoring and my brother restless in his bed. I climbed into the bottom bunk bed, sad that I now would have to sleep in this room crammed with all my family members for many more months until the virus went away.
September 19, 2019. A day I will never forget. It was pre-COVID-19, and I couldn’t wait for my grandparents’ arrival from China. My mother’s parents visit us in San Francisco every two years for about six months, so this was a most special day. They walked through the door at exactly 11:46, just before midnight. I remember because I was looking at the clock on top of the piano I was playing to greet them, looking forward to the wonderful fun we would all have together.
I hadn’t even heard of the coronavirus until Chinese New Year. It came up during the small talk around our noisy dining table. I was drawn in as the adults were talking about the scary disease, and listened carefully. As I tried to enjoy the extra special holiday dishes, I could hear the concern in the voices of my family and our friends. I couldn’t make out all the details in the crowded room, but I kept hearing about the Wuhan virus that had spread to America. I felt better when Grandpa said there were some cases in Seattle, which is two states away, so it didn’t seem like such a big deal to me then.
But the virus started to frighten me more when everyone in school began talking about it a few weeks later. My classmates, the teachers and in our school clubs, all I heard about was the “China virus.” I felt confused about this name, especially because my family is from China and I didn’t even know what this thing was that apparently came from this country. Still, I felt a level of racism in this name, which was even more upsetting when I began hearing about some Asians being attacked in public by people complaining about the virus. I asked my parents, and it turned out that Covid-19, the China Virus, and the Wuhan virus were all the same thing. I think my nervousness increased the most when I saw my grandpa standing by the television with his eyes peeled tight on the screen. His face was pale and his whole body was shivering. This sent a cold feeling down my spine; I knew something was wrong.
When my parents told me that grandma and grandpa would be staying with us an additional eight months to avoid the virus in their hometown, I realized more completely how bad this situation was. Things started out ok the first extra month in April, but then we all started to feel the stress. My grandparents were very nervous about not being able to return home, and started taking more depression medicine. Everyone was trying to stay calm, but our home seemed smaller because of the new tensions, particularly when my grandparents had to sleep in separate rooms leaving the four of us to the last bedroom. I love my grandparents but it felt like my life was ruined when I lost my privacy and I couldn’t study very well. But the most important lesson I learned after I thought about it - my suffering was so little compared to the people around the world who were sick and dying from the terrible virus, making me incredibly grateful for everything I have, even with the cramped bedroom.
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