Yes

Barbara Flanagan

August 10, 2020

The devastation of COVID19

This pandemic that has rocked our world in 2020 will be remembered by many as a time of loss...loss of employment, loss of income, loss of freedom to go where we would like, loss of contact with family and friends, and loss of control over our own lives. For me, the greatest loss suffered was that of my beloved father, Charles Hudson, who passed away on April 11th at 4:45am. Covid19 robbed me of my daily chat companion, my Jeopardy buddy, and of course, my Toronto Maple Leaf cheering partner. My dad Charlie, who was described by everyone who came into contact with him as a man with "kind eyes and an infectious smile", was a resident at Lundy Manor Retirement Residence. He moved into retirement living after suffering the loss of his beloved wife Lucinda in January of 2019. Although he was 91 at the time, he was still very active, still drove his big red pickup truck, and loved to frequent the casino. He just didn't want to live alone in a big empty house, with too much time on his hands, and nothing but sadness and loneliness to fill the hours. He decided to try it for a month before deciding whether to make it permanent, so in April of 2019, he moved in. He thrived in the environment, made many friends, and after a couple of months, it was as if he was home again. I visited him usually twice a day, after work in the afternoon, and always for Jeopardy at 7:30. Every Tuesday night, I would join him in the resident's bingo game. We would laugh and talk, and quite often win a few bucks. Life was wonderful for Charlie until the dark cloud that was "the virus" made its way here. I was last with my father on March 13th at Lundy Manor for my afternoon visit; when I returned for my evening Maple Leafs game, signs had been placed on the door stating that no visitors would be allowed in for the protection of the residents. After that, I would visit my dad 2, and sometimes 3 times a day at his window, as he was lucky enough to have a ground floor room. I would call him on my cell phone, he would put his phone on speaker and put it in his lap, and we would talk and be able to make eye contact. It wasn't perfect, but it worked. On March 30, he informed me that they were all being quarantined in their rooms because there were a few residents who had tested positive for Covid19. I could tell he was concerned, but he never wanted me to worry about him. I continued my daily visits, but then we starting hearing about friends passing away. It was getting very worrying for me, and for my dad. On Friday, April 4th, I noticed that my father had developed a cough. My heart sunk, as I knew what potentially could be coming next. Then he started with a low-grade fever that would come and go. By Saturday night, as we spoke through the window, I could see his chest heaving up and down quickly, and his cough had worsened. Again he tried to reassure me that he was fine. Sunday morning came the call I had been fearing; he was struggling to breathe and they wanted him to go to the hospital. I rushed over and watched through the window as the ambulance attendants took him away. That was the last time I saw my dad until the day he passed. We spoke on the phone from his hospital room numerous times a day, and at first, we thought he was going to beat this. However, it proved too hard of a battle for his 92-year-old body to fight. On April 10th I was allowed to be with my dad in the hospital. We talked, we laughed, I played Johnny Cash songs for him, and we both knew how much we were loved by the other. I held his hand for hours, and I could see him slipping away before my eyes. It just seemed so cruel, that a man who had worked so hard and fought so hard for his whole life, ended up suffering in this way. As the day rolled into night, his moments of consciousness grew less, and he slipped peacefully away to be reunited with his wife. My life will never be the same, nor will the lives of my son and grandchildren, who talk about Grandpa Charlie all the time. My 4-year-old grandson Oliver says "Grandpa Charlie died, but we just need to find him and hug him and then he will be back". Oh Oliver, if only it were true. I know this has been a horrible time for everyone in the world, but when people talk about not being able to get a haircut, or go eat at a restaurant, or go to the casino, I would gladly trade all of those luxuries and more, forever to have my dad back with me...just to be able to find him and hug him and bring him back. I will never forget how Covid19 robbed me and my family of a wonderful soul.

Niagara Falls

Yes