We cheered them on as they sang and gave us joy.
All the while, in silent routine, she awoke each day, gowned up, masked on, gloved in to care for our sick.
We cheered them on as they won each game.
All the while, in twelve hour shifts, he pushed passed his fatigue, gowned up, masked on, gloved in to care for our sick.
We laughed, cried, and philosophized in our open spaces, as the drinks poured on.
All the while, they put away their gowns, masks and gloves, and headed home to care for their own.
Our heroes, whom we cheer on, all the while were always there. Unsung.
Gilda Tavernese
I wrote this poem in March, 2020. The weight of the pandemic was heavy in the hearts of many around the world. The focus was on staying home to give the health care workers a fighting chance. The streets were eerily quiet and most of us were probably still in shock, thinking this might pass in a few weeks. Experts on television mentioned how pandemics take a couple of years to run their course. I thought, surely that was the past, we are living in a more sophisticated and technically advanced society in 2020. Yes, in a couple of weeks we will resume our lives again. My younger sister, who is a health care worker, had recently gone on maternity leave last March. She expressed to me her desire to return to the hospital, to be part of the team again in order to help. I was selfishly super happy that she was not at the hospital where I knew she would be front and centre, risking her health to save others. Hence, the inspiration to write this poem was born.
So what has changed in so many months? Here we are again. A mandated stay-at-home order has been issued by our government. I read all too often negative comments about this order. I’ve noticed a greater lack of compliance. We seem to be more tired this time around. It’s not the dawn of spring, but the beginning of a heavy, dark and cold winter. However, more people seem to be out and about, and I’m not just talking about out for walks or at parks, but the traffic on the street seems to have changed minimally. Health care workers are pleading for us to stay home, and we seem to not be heeding their warnings this time. I feel as though we are turning our backs on the very people that are asking for our help again. “Covid fatigue” they are calling it, a very real social phenomena. We have begun to vaccinate the most vulnerable in our society, but we are months away from safety. Those workers have not changed their cries. They are the same cries from last spring. We have changed, we have gotten more tired. Tired of staying home. Tired of moving around the house pretending we have somewhere or something important to do in the evening. Tired of answering our children’s questions about how to send in their homework online, or that the printer is out of ink and paper, again. Tired of the four walls that surround us and the same faces in front of us. I completely understand the sadness and the heavy faces I see all around me, at home and at the grocery store. I understand the anger and the bitterness in the comments I read online. You see, we have the luxury of feeling tired of it all and not wanting to comply, and I don’t fault anyone for feeling this way, but make no mistake, it certainly is a luxury.
You know who I don’t see online hurling insults at our tired politicians who have to stand in front of the camera day in and day out begging us to stay home? Health care workers. They don’t have the luxury to spew insults online or to protest mandatory mask orders or shut downs. They don’t have the luxury to be bored at home, and probably long for quiet days in the comfort of their own homes. They are fighting this war every day. They are soldiering this fight and we are complaining about handing them their weapons. We are asking them to fight blind folded with one arm tied behind their backs, and we are hurling insults at them while they are doing it. Yes, we are missing loved ones and our mental health capacity to care for others is coming apart at the seams, but we must hold on damn it! Hold on! The waves are rough and we are being thrashed about from one side of the ship to the other, but we need to hold on tight because the captain of our ship is fighting for our lives. What good does it serve to scream “hurry up and end this storm already!”. There is a break in the clouds and the end of the storm in near, but we are still in the eye of it so let’s do our part. We are soon coming full circle, a full turn around the sun. My sister will return to help steer that ship, so let’s give her and others like her a fighting chance. Let’s not send them into battle unarmed. They are still our unsung heroes…. so let’s start singing and cheering for them again! Let’s do our part, in order to help them do their part, which is to take better care of everyone’s loved ones.
(Personal Collection)
Thoughts At F___ It Forties 