covid notes 47

In May—May!—Tim’s sister Amy announced that she and Tom were getting married and the wedding was set for November 7. She said she understood that given covid, it might not happen.

 

I have been anxious about this event since it was announced, especially as there was no guarantee that any of it could be held outside.

 

At first, it was going to be a full-on wedding. Eventually they changed the plan to mostly just family, with a party next year.

 

Tom’s mother fell and broke her leg in three places. Still no cancellation.

 

Tim and our neighbor were rehearsing wedding music all summer, just in case, but even getting there was going to be problematic, as neither flying nor a long trip in one car were deemed wise. So they were trying to figure out whether they could send a recording instead.

 

Within the last month or so, I became even more anxious about the event. The venue is not far from Washington, D.C., four days after the election. I do not want to be away from home, especially close to the nation’s capital, that weekend, no matter the outcome. I hope things won’t get dangerous, but they could.

 

Plus, if we went, we’d have a 2-week quarantine after, and given the declining health of my mother and Tim’s, we need to save those potential quarantines for emergencies.

 

Finally, last week, Tim told Amy with certainty that we could not go. She understood, she said. Certainly she’d been prepared for that decision.

 

And then, just a few days later, she was diagnosed with covid, and a couple of days later, so was Tom. (They feel fine.)

 

So now it’s going to be just the two of them and the J.P.

 

And a wedding next year, perhaps.

 

This year is a suckfest.