Quarantines While Parenting: Old and New

Halloween is our family's favorite holiday. However, knowing there wasn't much we could do on Halloween, I came across a historical reenactment of a séance at a local historical home on October 30th, my beloved grandfather's birthday. Attending historical reenactments is something we love to do. I read their social distancing policy and felt it would be safe enough. Since my husband had to work that night, I invited my mother.

Was my son telling me the whole truth?

As soon as I pulled into the driveway, my oldest son met me at the car. He let me know he had just fallen out of a tree but assured me all he had was a minor headache. My anxiety kicked in, fearing a head injury. My husband checked him out and at that point, all seemed well. I gave him some ibuprofen and reassured him no one would be upset if he wanted to stay home. We could order pizza and watch scary movies go next year.

My mother's intuition told me he wasn't telling me the complete truth about what happened. Still, my husband worked with the sickest and tiniest babies in the NICU as a nurse and knew what he was doing.

My son was not himself

My mother arrived and we were soon on our way. Arriving early, we were not allowed in the house yet due to social distancing rules. We walked the property and admired its beauty. My talkative teenager was growing quieter. He is full of information he is proud to share, but his "fun facts" were sporadic at best.

By the time our appointment time rolled around, I did not need my motherly instinct to know something was wrong.

When the tour guide gave us a brief history of the home and séances, I expected to have to correct him for interrupting the tour guide because he gets so excited with questions. He was utterly disengaged throughout the reenactment and didn't want to walk through the house to explore after.

More signs that something was wrong

It had been a long time since the boys had gotten to do anything fun, so my stepdad met us for dinner. Anyone who knows my child knows he is now 3 inches taller than I am, skinnier than a rail, and will eat anything. Less than 5 minutes after the waitress served our food, he asked to lie down. My stepfather unlocked the car for him. I boxed and paid for our meals and went to sit with him. Once we were alone, I knew it was bad.

Quick deterioration

As I turned to ask him a question, he threw open the car door and starting vomiting. It was as if he was trying to reenact the Exorcist scene. I called my mother and told her we needed to leave immediately. I wish I would have left an apology note and some cash for the unfortunate car owner parked next to us for a car wash.

While my parents were paying their tab, I phoned my husband and told him Brent had deteriorated quickly. He called his boss and was waiting to take him to the hospital as soon as we arrived home. He was hardly speaking in coherent sentences by this point.

New worries due to COVID-19

After they left, our younger son came into my bedroom and immediately started crying. Before March, we would have only worried about the state of his health in terms of a head injury. Still upset, he told me how terrified he was his older brother or dad would catch COVID-19.

I attempted to comfort him by telling him his brother and dad would immediately go to a room due to the severity of his symptoms. I asked him if he wanted to grab his pillow and blanket and hang out with me for a while. We found a channel with a Halloween movie marathon (the Michael Myers series) because we are horror movie fans, but he was fast asleep in minutes.

Waiting with my insomnia

Insomnia was my only company that night, along with one of the many Halloween movies where Michael Myers keeps coming back (he's my favorite movie villain, the real-life incarnate of insomnia, but not as cheesy after the first movie). Sleep wouldn't be my reprieve that night or for a few nights that followed.

With our snoring coon hound, Winston, curled up between my son and me, my thoughts drifted to my grandparents and then to my great grandparents and the pandemics they raised children through.

Did my ancestors have these worries too?

I wondered about my grandmothers, mostly. Did they lie awake at night, too, worrying about their kids? Was it easier not to see the death toll climb daily in a 24/7 news cycle?

I finally got the news I was waiting for – my son was okay, but he did have a moderate concussion. The bit of the believer in me felt my grandparents, even those I never knew, kept him safe, cradled in their safe arms as they cradled their children. But I will save my family history for another time.