Wednesday March 15th, 2023.
Greetings Friends, From the Pacific Northwest, on the third anniversary of the pandemic, AD 2023.
It has been a long, long, winter for our family.
The Sick
First there was the mega-cold, the tripledemic—a combination of the Flu, R.S.V and Covid that hit all at once in the fall. The symptoms of the Flu and R.S.V. that were avoided due to masking and social distancing during the heights of the pandemic came back with a vengeance two years later—as if jealous of Covid hogging the spotlight.
Our family was sick most of November, early January, and then February again with a variety of maladies. It was mostly bad coughs and mucus and sore throats (but curiously not Covid?). Our youngest, Emerson, did have to go to the ER for a bad case of croup, but we had no idea if was R.S.V. (it wasn’t). I think I had a cough and runny nose for most of November, December, and January. Then, in early February, we were hit with that awful stomach bug—knocked three out of the four of us out flat. I awoke at 3 am in the middle of the night and headed straight for the toilet, thinking that I had had a bad batch of Costco meatballs or something. But then Evangeline woke up the next morning crying and covered in puke, and proceeded to throw up nine times the next morning. Then Cat got hit. Only Emerson was okay, wandering around in her diaper while the three of us were sprawled out on the couch, barely moving, watching Disney movie after Disney movie—Moana, Frozen, Strange World, Tangled, etc.
The Cold
The weather here has been well, shitty. Less rain than usual but more snow and cold. In fact, we recently just had a record snowfall in Portland—the most amount of snow since 1943! 10+ inches. It seems most of the West U.S. has experienced a barrage of snow this year, so much that it has even been hard to enjoy. And then there has been the usual PNW darkness, the grey I should say, the wet grey, how it seeps into everything. Oh! How I long for a good old Colorado winter (with snow and cold), but lots of sun! For yet again, for the third year in a row, there have been too many long days spent indoor with little children. Nowhere to go or no energy to take them anywhere (it doesn’t help that Emerson, almost two, has not been the best sleeper).
The Snow
Last Wednesday, as I went to pick Evangeline up from school, it started snowing. Big fat flakes. We knew there was a chance of snow, they’d been talking about it on the local Portland news for a week straight, as they do in Portland, everyone worried about the next “snowpocalypse.” We all assumed it would snow a little bit or not stick, as it usually does. But Wednesday, it just kept snowing. Near-blizzard conditions as wind and snow hovered over Portland. The moving storm seemed to sit and hover over Portland itself, refusing to move towards Salem or Hood River.
My wife’s work was let out early, (during a previous snowstorm, it had taken one of her coworkers six hours to get home). The streets in Portland tend to get utterly ridiculous in a snowstorm. People who are not ready for the snow, or not driving vehicles that are prepared for snow, abandon their cars along the freeway. It seems silly, especially to those of us from more mountainous regions or the Midwest. But the hills combined with the ice of Portland do not make snow a particularly manageable place to drive in, for anyone, especially this year, as the snow fell so fast.
It continued snowing, by Thursday morning we had at least six inches and it kept coming. By the end we would get 10+ inches.
Thursday and Fridays we had our first Snow day. I loved snow days growing up. I still do. Sledding. Hot chocolate. Day off of school. Snow angels, snowmen. All of it.
On Thursday, after the wind died down, I tried to take the girls outside. They’re still so little that it was fun for them just walking around in the snow. They didn’t need to go sledding or anything fancy.
I attempted to cross country ski around the park by my house but it was not the best snow. Still, I tried to live the life of my fantasies, pretending as if I lived in Norway or Austria, living my ultimate Hygee life, and was cross-country skiing to dinner somewhere because it was the only option I had.
The Cabin Fever
Normally I even love winter. I love the snow. But after a week of being inside, two days of preschool cancelled, all other activities and event spaces closed, I started to feel the weight of my children. I lost the ability to regulate myself. I started yelling at them, cursing their existence. I found myself getting bitter at the position I’d found myself in. I felt a similar sort of post-covid anxiety start to creep into my head: We’ll be stuck inside here forever. It’s hopeless.
Yet when I showed up to preschool the following Wednesday, after the snowstorm, and began to exchange pleasantries with all the other parents I found myself curiously absolved and relieved. We all exchanged the same phrases and looks, “How’s it going? Did you survive? “Whoo, that was a looong week!” You mean it wasn’t just me who was feeling crazy!?
It’s such a simple thing but one of the keys to existence—the ability to vent and commiserate with others who are in the same situation as you—whether its coworkers or other parents or someone in a similar life stage/traumatic situation as you. Especially when you feel isolated and alone in your situation. How good is it to hear from someone else: “Sheesh! That was a hard, wasn’t it?”
And to answer back, “Yes! It was!”
Just to say the words aloud to another human being.
I’m really struggling this winter with how someone is supposed to parent while struggling with depression and/or seasonal affective disorder. The children, I love them, but everything becomes harder because of them, even good things! Things I normally love. I love the cuteness and all, but really I cannot wait until they are older. The days are so long, and yet even so, as I peruse photos to use for this piece, I find amnesia wiping my my mind clean of how hard those days were—just by a simple look at the girls’ smiles.
I don’t wish to complain further dear reader, I find it cringey even as I revise this, but the truth is, I just don’t have energy to write about anything else. There are good things too, of course, the wife is always saying how I always look at the bad things instead of the good and I’m like, yeah, I have depression! Aren’t you a licensed social worker who should understand such things? But she’s right of course, I went snowboarding a couple times, to a writer’s conference in Seattle. There is this novel I’m working on, which, at this rate, will be done sometime by 2030, but I am excited about it and wish I had more time/mental energy to work on it.
I hope you and your loved ones are staying safe and healthy. The struggle is real.
My Warmest Regards,
Levi