Recently, states across America have been “shutdown” by their governors due to the coronavirus. This means people aren’t allowed to go outside their homes unless it’s to go to the pharmacy or the grocery store. These measures are put in place to protect us, but I can’t help feeling robbed. Robbed of my senior year, robbed of saying goodbye to friends I made over the years, robbed of the opportunity to say goodbye to some of the best teachers I’ve known.  

Saying all this out loud makes me feel selfish, but people always say that the first step to recovery is admittance. So that means I’m not just dealing with the pain, I’m healing. 

Since the shutdown I’ve had to step up in my family. Having two younger brothers and a doctor for a mom, the responsibility has fallen on me, the oldest, to take care of my family, to provide them with the support they need to get through these trying times. I’ve become a teacher for my brothers, making sure they are up to date on all their assignments.  

My mom has always been a hero, but now her cape flies high. I remember one day my mom came home from work and told me that she “saved a life today.” She went into details about what she did for her patient, but it was all just noise to me. It didn’t really click that my mom is working up close and personal with covid19 patients every day. That the only thing protecting her is a mask. She puts her life on the line every day to make sure that people are getting the help and support they need.  

I’ve always dreamt about walking across the stage and getting my diploma while my family screams my name from the bleachers. Overnight that dream was crushed. One day I was in school, the next I had to stay in my house for my own safety. Dealing with the loss of a dream is crushing. You may not even know you’re hurting until your cap and gown come in the mail and it hits you. Like it did me. It hit me I won’t be able to say goodbye to my class. It hit me that I took school for granted. It hit me that I took my friends for granted.  

You never really appreciate something until it’s gone. And once it’s gone, it’s too late. But it’s never too late to deal with the pain and start to heal.