Yesterday I had a social-distancing birthday picnic for my five year old cousin. A couple months ago I would have never imagined putting those words together in the same sentence, yet here we are. We tried to hold on to as much normalcy as possible, talking loudly to each other from the two blankets set up on opposite sides of my backyard. But as we sang an echoing, off-key happy birthday, I couldn’t stop thinking about how far away I still felt from the people I love. I knew she probably wouldn’t remember her fifth birthday anyway, but not knowing the next time I would be able to give her a hug was what made the whole day feel surreal and even more emotional.

When I’m asked how I’m doing, I almost feel guilty saying anything negative, even if it’s true, because I am truly so fortunate. I am safe at home with my family and even my “biggest” problems are so tiny in comparison to the war-like conditions so many are facing. That heartbreak of not being able to give a hug has been the reality for healthcare workers and their families for weeks. Learning about large-scale fatalities during historic events always just felt like numbers, but now every new statistic could include someone I know. Watching a disaster unfold in real-time can never be captured quite the same in hindsight.

I have always been a person who gets through things because of the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel. I work well on a schedule and am comforted by having control. My biggest struggle with this pandemic has been the overwhelming amount of unknowns. Everyday I think about how excited I am to go outside, see my friends, and be back at UD, but right now everything is up in the air. Each time I struggle with pushing forward or think what’s the point? I remind myself of just how amazing we will all feel to be together again. One thing I think isolation is teaching all of us is the value of our relationships with others. Whether that be with your family who you haven’t had quality time with in a while or your friends whose company you realize you took for-granted. In a time of strict division and disconnection, I find the greatest hope in focusing on all the acts of unity still occuring. 

How am I? I am disheartened, anxious, and uncertain, but at the same time very grateful, humbled, and hopeful for the new people we will all be when this storm subsides.

-Caldonia Carmello