So, lots of stuff has happened in the last year or so. There’s still a pandemic. I’m vaccinated, thank Fauci, with the Pfizer vaccine. My mother caught covid at a ‘mandatory work Christmas breakfast’, gave it to my brother and father. My mother and brother recovered. My father spent a month in the hospital, including 2 weeks in a coma on a ventilator. He died on January 29, 2021 at the age of 63. It’s been 8 months and I’m still torn up. I talk to him in my dreams–mostly to say “hey, aren’t you dead?” He smiles and says “yep, I am”, then we talk about more important things. It’s nice.
Mom’s coworkers mocked her for wearing a mask because “his mask didn’t protect John”. I’m just done with this anti-masking bullshit.
