Your COVID-19 stories: Part 5

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 24/04/2020 (2142 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

At a time like this, we believe it’s important to turn to our readers.

You are the ones living through this state of emergency. You are the ones adapting to the challenges of COVID-19. You are the ones impacted by the coronavirus.

And that’s why we’ve launched a special experiment with a reader-generated column to share your experiences, your thoughts and your concerns about this historic time.

Here are some recently shared stories.  Share your own story here.

Carolynn MacKenzie

In March 1996, my family participated in a Winnipeg 2000 promotion/education campaign on, “Why I am Proud to call Winnipeg Home.” The purpose of the campaign was to build awareness and pride among Winnipeggers.

Now, almost 25 years later, my sons are grown and established in professional careers with families of their own. Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, they are well and healthy, and able to give back to our community.

My sons and their spouses are now front-line and essential workers, serving our city and province. They are procurement agents, supporting the food-supply chain; they are home-schooling three young children while maintaining their day job of teaching young students afar; they are part of the Winnipeg Police Service, protecting the City of Winnipeg.

My family is part of a dedicated team, effectively working together, proud to call Winnipeg home!

Lois Taylor

Like most people, I lie awake at night thinking about this coronavirus, and I can’t help but go back in my mind to a couple weeks ago when I went to Brookside Cemetery to visit a family member’s grave. It was after all that snow, and it was beginning to melt, so there was a lot of snow, water and mud.

I stopped my car on one of the paths. A woman had pulled up and parked just ahead, facing me, so I couldn’t get around. I decided to sit tight and watched as she stepped out of her car. It was a woman, about late 60s, not in the proper foot attire, which soon became apparent as she fell back flat on her butt in the knee-deep snow.

She flailed about but couldn’t seem to get herself upright. I got out of my car and asked if she needed my help. I certainly would have come to her aid but I wasn’t sure what her convictions were about the whole social-distancing thing.

She said she would be OK. So I stood there and watched helplessly, stupidly, as she got more and more mired in the muck. It was beginning to look rather hopeless, as she was now wet and full of mud. She said something about having had knee surgery and forgot her cane.

I asked again, “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” She said she would eventually do it. But I just stood there trying to decide what I should do.

Then all of a sudden, this old guy who was parked in another car, reading the cemetery map on the side of path, unaware up until that point… came around the car, no hesitation, no, “Are you OK?” He just came up behind the woman, bent down and helped her up. Coronavirus be damned. Just like that. Bless his heart.

It’s a pretty sad state of affairs when a person has to think twice before offering or accepting a helping hand from a fellow human being. I’m profoundly sorry and disappointed in myself for not coming to the aid of that woman.

I could tell she was relieved to get in her car and as she drove by me she smiled and waved a thank you. For what? For standing there watching?

Damn the coronavirus.

Zafar Sacranie

It’s 9:22 a.m. and I’m in bed smoking my first doob of the day. I’ve been up for hours; relaxing, reading news, watching highlights on Reddit from my favourite competitive first-person shooter (game), and other things.

Every day, for all of my intellectually aware experience of life, I contemplate the state of society, the state of human awareness.

Many people I have spoken to in this time are telling me that they are having the best days of their lives; relaxing, spending more quality time with their families, taking care of home affairs, organizing paperwork, cooking new recipes, perfecting their homebrews, making art and opening up their imaginations.

I enjoy the quiet, and have lived in a state of essentialist simplicity most of my life.

I choose basic.

I am 30 years old (and) I lost my job in November for reasons unrelated to COVID-19. I was approved for EI but have recently encountered hurdles as my last EI claim has been stuck for several weeks as a detail needs to be discussed with an agent and EI call centres are experiencing difficulty.

My time with EI would be up, and with the new eligibility requirements for the CERB, I would qualify. As it stands, I am stuck and have had no income for over a month. I could still apply for CERB, but I do not want to take approval for granted, and later be in a questionable and difficult situation.

As it stands now, I am fine; I have been saving, I have made a habit of paying my rent months in advance, I have set up a small home gym in my one-bedroom apartment.

My nest-building philosophy in this time has been — as a single individual who has always felt like an outsider in society — how can I make my personal prison cell awesome and sustainable on minimum wage? My sense of nest-building at this stage in my life considers that if I am required to start over at any time, will I be able to independently sustain my home?

If I had not learned this approach before COVID hit, I would be begging and crying for my survival right now. I would be grovelling to people who have disrespected me, I would feel desperate and ashamed. I would likely be deeply depressed. I would consider all forms of escape.

I am fortunate to have been blessed with enriching relations and experiences that have helped me prepare for situations of crisis. I am glad I was raised by a working-class accountant who hates debt and a grocery-store worker who has diligently and humbly served the public and her family for 30 years, from cashier to deli manager. I am blessed to have been raised in a disciplined family, culture and spiritual community.

Even as I live alone, with very limited social contact and have made the decision to step away from social media in this time, I do not feel alone.

I feel relaxed. My relationship with the cat named Bhāo is teaching me so much about basic attentiveness, the importance of moving through time with patient and expansive awareness, the value of basic food, the possibility to abide in strength and beauty when we do not spread ourselves too thin. I remember the words, “less is more,” more often, and feel a deeper appreciation in the meaningful conversations shared at this time, as though all parties concerned are considering more deeply the value of time and relationship.

I wish peace and health to my neighbours and fellow citizens. I hope this personal story brings value to the public.