Almost a year. It has been almost a year since I have seen my family in person. This thought occurred to me one night after I had ended a video call with my parents who live is Inglewood, California. Almost a year. How did that happen?

Of course, Covid…. That phrase is included in many of my sentences or similar wording now and has been added for nearly three hundred sixty-five (365) days. Those three words have been enough to explain the separation I have accepted. A chasm created with the intention of being safe, being vigilant, being responsible. I suppose this distance would be understandable if it were a habit formed pre-Covid. Let’s be real, many children see their parents or siblings with far less frequency than a year. Not I, not us. Our family unit is close. 

Being close has meant that I have gotten to know my parents and sister as adult people, and they me. We have decided that we like each other as people and not just love each other because we are related. Our relationship is intentional. Numerous conversations have molded our connection and healthy communication is continuing to fortify our agreement to be, to act, as a family. 

The Covid-induced estrangement while difficult, has allowed for an interaction with each other that would before have been thought of as unnecessary, and generating no interest among the parents. However, Duo, for instance, a video conferencing app that is cross-platform, has been a psychological life raft by lessening the impact of physical distance. Even after Covid 19 has become endemic (or eradicated), I think my parents will want to see my face while talking on the phone. 

With an end in sight, the debilitating coronavirus will be as threatening as a cough after having shaken ground pepper onto a warm meal. Of course, Covid will never be forgotten and its effect residual, but through it, my appreciation for my family has increased. 

Almost a year yet still….