Positive, for Corona and for Life

In 2019, I visited Germany in December to celebrate my father’s 93rd birthday, with plans to return in spring of 2020. By March, the Corona virus had changed the world and my plans to travel dissipated. It would be 2022 before I got on a plane to my beloved country again. I tried for fall of 2021, then cancelled as the Delta variant reared its ugly head, finally booking for May of this year, thinking the worse was behind us.

This time my half-brother Patrick was to accompany me, the first trip back to his birthplace of Frankfurt since he was six months old. We would make the rounds: of the Tower in Bavaria, and the lovely home in the vineyards of my cousin Michael and his wife Ivonne, as well as a stay in Bad Nauheim at the end of our trip so Patrick could meet my biological father.  Everything was meticulously planned and we were both giddy with excitement.

No one in my German family had contracted the dreaded and unpredictable virus while it made its rounds. I didn’t get it when my husband had it, and felt smug about my strong immune system. Surely we were all safe now.

I flew in to Germany two days before Patrick, and spent quality alone time with my Papa. Cousin Michael and I picked Patrick up from the airport on the third day and spent that night at Michael’s house. Next day we rented a car and headed to Bavaria and the Tower. By the time we drove away, my head and ears were miserably clogged. I blamed it on allergies as I watched dandelion fluffs drift through the air. Yet, allergy meds were not helping.

By the time we reached the Tower I had a bad feeling.

A self-test for the virus confirmed that I was positive. Plans to spend time with cousin Gabi and my aunt had to be postponed. I kept my distance from Patrick but two days later he also tested positive. We hunkered down in that lovely medieval tower, foregoing the next plans of our trip. That second line continued to stubbornly show up on our daily self-tests, even when we felt better. We walked with our aunt in the countryside, keeping our distance. We walked to the nearby pond several times a day to check on the Mama and Pap swans with their seven new cygnets.

My father and his wife were fine, with no symptoms. My relief at this news also made me believe I picked up the virus after I landed, not on the plane as I originally thought. When I called Cousin Michael to tell him we were waiting things out in Bavaria instead of returning his way, I found out he was also positive. Upper respiratory congestion and a wicked sore throat made him miserable. Patrick and I simply felt as if we had a “summer head cold” that was annoying but tolerable. When Ivonne also tested positive, we decided it would be okay to all hang out together in isolation. Patrick and I left the Tower and drove to Michael’s.

Altogether, we sniffled, snorted, coughed, sneezed, and complained of exhaustion. What a sorry lot we were. Fortunately we had glorious weather: blue sky, and warmth with a slight cool breeze. We sprawled in the sun on the huge patio overlooking a back yard filled with flowering bushes and fruit trees. Breakfast and good strong coffee started our days, with rolls and homemade jams followed by cheese and honey ham. Salads and fruit led us into the afternoon. Dinner consisted of salmon one night, grilled chicken another, and a pizza-pasta night. We ate, drank a bit of good wine and bonded. We also walked through the vineyards, to feel the sun on our faces and help our lungs to breathe. Most of all, we bonded.

We sat and talked, confiding and trusting each other. I gained new insight into my “baby” brother, able to see him now as the person he was, and not the annoying (yet beloved) little guy ten years younger and so often my responsibility. Although I felt I knew my cousin Michael and his wife well, I now saw them while they were sick and dependent (as they did me), and their kindness and love touched me deeply.

We rallied, and turned a small crisis into a time we will remember, not for what it took away but for what it gave us. The few days with my father were precious, the time with my half-brother a life event, and my cousins now reside in my heart more than ever. Sometimes life’s punches grant us newness: a new perspective and new moments that will stay with us for a lifetime.