Passion for Paraguay

Picking up the Covid 19 bug does not seem like an unusual experience these days. I tested Covid positive last month. Exactly about one year after the first cases in China appeared and then gradually cascaded around the world.  When I tested positive, I did not know what to expect. Stories of horror abound. I braced for the worst but hoped for the best. As soon as I had the symptoms I retreated into my office and spent ten days in exile. I mean, I still had access to my family from a safe distance. I was given a plate of food three times a day. I drank from my own cup and slept on a mat on the office floor. I was trying to heed my doctors instructions to isolate and protect the rest of the family.  My son also picked up the virus. He was not too upset, since it gave him an excuse to sleep late, binge watch his shows on his TV and relax.  Between days 5-8 I got a little scared. I had some pressure on my chest, and needed to stay still for several hours not to put too much p...

This morning I woke up and could not get going. I was alone in the house while my sister and Anahi were running some errands, and one of Julie’s favorite songs was playing on the radio.  I began to cry. "God, how long? When will I see the other side?" As paradoxical as it may sound, I am actually beginning to long for the next grief surge. It has become the new familiar thing. It’s the one connection I have with my past. It’s the time I have to myself to think of two great loves that enriched my life for 15 years. Thinking about the son I had, who made me a dad and brought fatherhood out of me. Pondering how love grows deeper over the years. Thinking about the incredible wife God gave me, who loved me unconditionally and made me a better person. Now all of that is gone, and I am left with just a quiet house and tears. But I am also aware that life never stops and is constantly moving forward, even if I am moving very slowly right now. People move on. Many of you h...