It’s Ok to Feel Whatever You’re Feeling: Processing Pandemic Grief

We’ve going on five months of living with the shadow of COVID19 and it’s economic, and emotional effects hanging over us.

I’m grateful that my family is healthy. I’m fortunate that no one I’m close to has become ill or died. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had losses.

It can feel like self-indulgence to admit that I’m grieving. When we first went into quarantine I told myself it wouldn’t be so bad. We already homeschool and my husband works from home. so surely we could handle this.

But I wasn’t used to homeschooling without support, without museums and libraries. Without regular breaks and outside interactions beyond screens. My kids are great but even at their best, they can wear on my patience.

When we first got the news that our kids’ hybrid school made the decision to close for the upcoming school year. I felt Ok with it. I was grateful for the certainty and the ability to make plans based on that.

But what began as excitement quickly changed to panic. Yes, I had traditionally homeschooled before, for many years. But I also had some kind of support. We had a co-op that had classes for everyone, even the littlest ones. There was church. There was Wednesday night Awana or Kids’ Club. There was my MOPS group. That’s all gone now, canceled, or moved online.

The bottom line is that I won’t have a break for my children with any kind regularly for the foreseeable future. Just saying that makes me feel like the walls are closing in.

Of course, the logical part of me wants to berate myself for being so ridiculous. Surely this won’t be forever. I can survive a year. (I also said I could get through summer with the promise of VBS’s and day camps, and then went those went the hope of the coming fall.) I have to find a way to make this work. I have no choice. We have to keep going.

I can be thankful that, at least for now, we can get by financially and my husband still has employment. But it’s also Ok to grieve what I’ve lost.

I was going to try to finish my novel this year, since I was going to have a whole day each week to focus on my writing. I was going to read theology and maybe take an online class. Or just have a quiet cup of coffee for once.

All the plans I had for the next year of my life hinged on certain things happening this summer and fall, and those things won’t happen.

Even though I know I’ll ultimately be ok, I’m finding myself adrift. Of course, I’ll make a plan and find a way but I also need to extend myself the time to feel everything I’m feeling.

Maybe you are angry. Angry at the virus that has derailed your plans, angry at government officials and people who don’t follow the rules. It’s ok to make room to experience that, just don’t let it eat you alive.

Maybe you are sad. Missing people, and activities you love. It’s ok to embrace and feel the sadness, but try to avoid wallowing. (I say this as a first-class wallower. It’s ok for a while but eventually, it becomes self-defeating.) Even in your grief, reach for hope.

Maybe you are excited. Even amidst difficulty, you see this as an opportunity. A chance to teach your kids for the first time. A chance for more family togetherness. A chance to celebrate the empty calendar. I hope I get there eventually.

In the meantime, I’m allowing myself room to process the rest of it.