“Maybe I should start bringing supper over to Bubby every night,” my mother said thoughtfully. “It’s going to be hard for her, she’s used to us going over all the time to help out….”

Images flashed before my eyes. The elderly and the not-so-elderly, the vulnerable and the strong, so many people brought to their knees by the killer germ, so many patients, so many deaths. Then I thought of my grandparents.

“Wait,” I said. “I don’t think you should send food, that’s too risky. You’ll be touching it and everything… better have the groceries deliver sealed packages that they can disinfect before using.” My mind was racing. “Bubby and Zeidy know that they need to disinfect everything, right? Do they have enough antiseptic wipes and stuff? The germs can linger on surfaces, they need to be super careful, they’re both high-risk. We can’t be too careful.”

Ma raises her eyebrows. “Antiseptic wipes? I don’t know, I think it will be too much for Bubby, she can’t make all her own meals, she’s not used to that. There always used to be one of us going there to help out during the week, and it’s been a very long time since she made Shabbos without help. I really think sending food over is okay, we’ll leave it outside the door, we’ll be careful.”

I was frustrated. Careful wasn’t enough; not when the mortality rate was climbing wildly out of control and my grandparents’ health was on the brink.

“I’ll speak to Bubby, I’ll explain things, she’ll understand. I’m a nurse, I know how it works medically, she needs to know.”

“I don’t know, Avital,” Ma frowns, worried. “Bubby’s blood pressure… we can’t afford to scare her. She’s emotionally vulnerable, too. Isn’t it enough that they’re isolating in their home? We need to keep her spirits up, not feed her anxiety….”

I didn’t want to contradict my mother, but here was one place where I actually knew better. I mumbled something non-definitive and left the table, wondering how to explain things best to Bubby. She was the anxious type, very emotional and high-strung. She suffered from high blood pressure too.

Maybe I should talk to Zeidy? But my grandfather was frail and relied on Bubby for most things. “Tell your grandmother,” he’d likely order, if I tried tactfully suggesting protective measures.

What should I do?

*******

I had my opportunity when I was driving to work one afternoon — I was scheduled for a night shift; it was not going to be easy — and I passed my grandparents’ small house. To my surprise, they were both sitting on lawn chairs in the front porch, masks and all.

I slowed the car and waved.

“Avital!” Bubby was delighted. “We haven’t seen you in such a long time!”

“We haven’t seen anyone in such a long time,” Zeidy commented sardonically. “Park the car a minute, come a bit closer, tell us your news….”

I made a split-second decision. Here was my chance to delicately hint to them about some changes that would keep them safer.

“Nu, sheifele, what do you think of our trendy new masks?” Bubby asked, grimacing a little. “I feel like a dentist, but what can you do?” She shrugged, as if to say, Gotta keep safe, right?

But it wasn’t safe at all. They were way too close to the sidewalk. One passerby was all it could take: one sneeze, and a zillion germs all over the air.

“Yeah, that’s what we have to do these days.” I stayed far away, uncomfortably aware of how loud my voice was. “But Bubby, Zeidy, it’s probably even better not to go out the house at all. You know, the doctors are saying, the germs can linger in the air… we need to be super careful.”

Zeidy looked at Bubby, a little confused. “Really, Zelda? Maybe we should stay indoors? But it’s been so long since we had some fresh air….”

Bubby squinted at me. “I don’t know, Avital, I asked your mother, she thought it was fine to sit outside, we’re wearing masks and no one is coming too close. Do you really mean that chas v’shalom the virus could come attack us right in front of our house? Yoy!!” She shook her head, putting a hand on her heart dramatically.

Zeidy made a calming motion — “Zelda, please, relax, your blood pressure!” — and looked at me accusingly. “Avital, I know you’re a shmancy nurse,” he said, “but please, don’t scare your old grandparents. The Eibeshter’s in charge and we can only do our hishtadlus, right?”

I shook my head. “Of course, Zeidy, but I’m just telling you what the doctors are saying… for your safety. Please, Bubby, don’t worry about it, just stay indoors, it won’t be forever but it’s just safer that way.” I was almost begging.

Bubby stood up, still clutching at her chest. “Oish, who knows what the right thing is to do?” she demanded. “First we go crazy from being indoors, then you say we can’t even sit outside! I don’t know what’s worse, being sick chas v’shalom, or being jailed like this in our own home!”

She may not have known, but I definitely did. I pictured the rows of patients awaiting me in the hospital ward. My grandmother was just being dramatic. Her health came first, that was for sure.

“Bubby, don’t worry, it’s not going to last forever, but please, just stay inside, it will protect both of you,” I said, getting back into my car. I couldn’t afford to be late for my shift, not now.

Before I drove off, though, I saw my grandparents head slowly back inside, taking the lawn chairs along.

*******

A 12-hour night shift on a coronavirus ward is enough to wipe everything else from your mind. By the time I collapsed into bed, having thoroughly disinfected first, I was almost numb with exhaustion. My face hurt from the heavy mask, my hands were raw, and my whole body ached from being on the go the entire night. And the grief, the desperation, the heaviness of watching so much sadness….

The incident with Bubby and Zeidy had completely slipped my mind. But apparently, not my mother’s.

“What did you tell Bubby yesterday?” she asked me, almost as soon as I came upstairs to — finally — eat something. “She’s in a real state, saying that you said they can’t sit outside the house. Is it true, Avital? What did you tell her?”

I was too tired to get into an argument. “Nothing, I just drove past and they were sitting outside right near the sidewalk. It’s not safe, okay? Even with a mask. They’re too vulnerable.”

Ma sighed, long and loud. “But Avital, my parents can’t handle it, they need at least a few minutes of fresh air, seeing the world go by, they’re cooped up in a tiny house and I’m telling you, it’s dangerous for their emotional wellbeing.”

Emotional wellbeing. Ha.

“The virus kills people,” I said, through clenched teeth.

“But they’re being very careful,” Ma insisted. “And I’m very worried about Bubby’s blood pressure, she can’t go to the doctor or anything, they’re all alone. We have to keep up her spirits too, there’s a very real medical price if she panics. Let them live, let them breathe some fresh air, they need to have something to live for….”

I wanted to continue arguing, to say that Bubby and Zeidy had plenty to live for, they just had to survive this horrendous pandemic first. But there didn’t seem to be a point talking any longer.

“They’re not using antiseptic wipes to clean off deliveries, are they?” I mumbled.

“I don’t know what they’re doing about deliveries,” Ma said. “They probably open them with gloves. I’m not scaring them with obsessing over antiseptic stuff.”

This conversation was going nowhere.

I briefly debated calling my Aunt Shifra to try convince her, but then discarded the idea. She’d just call Ma right away; they discussed everything together.

Finally I decided to order a package of the disinfecting wipes online, to be delivered to my grandparents with a note explaining it. I’d say it nicely; surely they wanted to keep safe. It couldn’t do any harm to try.

*******

My package duly arrived at Bubby and Zeidy’s house, or so the email tracking link told me, but I didn’t hear anything about it. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried.

But extra shifts and my basement hibernation didn’t give too much opportunity to discuss the grandparents situation, anyway. It was a few weeks before the topic came up again. This time, both my parents were sitting at the kitchen table, talking quietly, when I came in.

“Look, obviously it’s not the nicest scenery, but Shifra said Mali’s okay with that,” Ma was saying.

I pricked up my ears. My cousin Mali was supposed to be getting married on Lag B’omer. It seemed it was going to be a ten-person backyard affair.

“What are they doing for the wedding?” I asked, curious. “Using their backyard? Will the chassan’s family come?”

Ma pursed her lips. She looked like she didn’t want to answer. That was strange.

My father cleared up the mystery. “No, they decided they’ll use Bubby and Zeidy’s backyard, isn’t that nice? So Bubby and Zeidy can watch from the window and sort of join in that way.”

“Whaat?” I closed the fridge door and spun around to face them. “You can’t be serious. They can’t do that. It’s way too risky!”

Ma shook her head meaningfully at Ta, as if to say, I knew this would happen….

But I wasn’t going to back down. “Listen, even if they stay indoors, it means people all over the backyard, touching the gate, touching the patio furniture. They’ll open the window, then they’ll open the door, people are going to wish the grandparents mazel tov, don’t tell me no one will get too close. And some kid will sneak in to use the bathroom, it’s just not worth the safety hazard, we can’t let it happen!”

“Avital,” Ma broke in. “You don’t understand — Zeidy and Bubby are waiting for this chasunah, it’s their big nachas moment, they haven’t been out in weeks. They’re so excited at the idea, it’s literally keeping them going. Zeidy’s a survivor, he hasn’t ever missed a family simchah, it’s his life, his nekamah. We can’t take it away from them — they’re not strong, it’ll be too much for them….”

“I know they’re not strong!” I snapped back. Out of line, I know, but the tension of the past couple months had caught up with me, and it was all too much. “That’s why we need to protect them! Better to miss watching one wedding and have years of simchahs ahead, b’ezras Hashem. You don’t understand the risks here!”

My father took the ball. “We know that, Avital,” he said, gently, like I was a child throwing a temper tantrum, and that just made things even worse. “But there’s a big risk in isolating them completely, you realize that. Aunt Shifra and I are planning every detail that Bubby and Zeidy take the maximum care not to get near to anyone. You’ll see, everything will be fine.”

If only I could believe him.

If I could tell Ma one thing, it would be: If you would see the dangers up close, you’d understand that every precaution is vital. If you really love your parents, you’d shut them out of this simchah.

Judy

My parents fall into that difficult category between being completely independent and needing full-time care. Basically, that translates into no steady outside help, but lots of constant help from the children. Luckily, I have a sister living nearby, and there’s my girls and my nieces, and between us, we always managed to take care of anything that needed doing.

Until the coronavirus, that is.

When things began to get serious, and my parents realized they had to shelter indoors in isolation, we took a deep breath to figure out a new plan. Grocery shopping and deliveries, medications, drive-by visits to see how they were doing….

We made a plan to ensure that someone called to check in on them every morning, afternoon, and evening. I was worried — not just about the practicalities of isolation or even the threat of the virus — but about their emotional well-being. They’re not used to being so restricted and lonely.

“It’s hard for Mommy,” Shifra told me worriedly, just a few days in. “She’s getting anxious, and you know about her blood pressure. I hope she’s okay.”

I bit my lip. My mother was high-strung and sensitive. She never took tension well, and it was a supreme balancing act between letting her know the grave situation in the world and protecting her from the worst of the horrors going on around us.

“Daddy, also,” my sister mused aloud. “He doesn’t talk much, but his heart isn’t strong. He needs fresh air and faces, he needs his shiur and his friends… he’s withering away in there.”

“I just don’t know what other options there are,” I said helplessly. “Avital’s been going on at me about how dangerous the virus is, though honestly, I don’t need my daughter to tell me that, even if she is a qualified nurse. We’ve got to encourage them to keep going, that’s all.”

“Obviously, they need to stay indoors,” Shifra agreed. “But let’s think of ways to keep them active and busy, take their minds off the danger, you know?”

“One hundred percent.” I thought about what Avital had said, telling them to disinfect anything that came in the house. I could just imagine my mother’s anxiety skyrocketing if I told her about that suggestion. “We should make sure to walk past, talk to them from outside, wave hello….”

“I told them to take chairs and sit out in front, get some sunshine,” Shifra said. “At least they should get some air, you know?”

“Good idea.” My phone beeped. It was a reminder to check in on my parents. “I’m going to call Mommy now, okay?”

Things did seem to settle down a little after that. My parents got used to the new routine, we called and “visited” as often as we could, and got food and books delivered. My mother took up painting, an old hobby, and my father listened to endless chazzanus tapes.

But then Mommy called me in a panic.

“Judy, what is this, your Avital tells me I can’t sit outside anymore? It’s dangerous or something?” Her voice was high-pitched, a danger sign. “She says there’s germs in the air and we could catch the virus, chalilah!”

The kids were fighting upstairs and a delivery had just landed on the front doorstep. This could not have come at a worse time. What did Avital do that for? Couldn’t she trust us, her parents, that we were looking out for her grandparents’ safety?

“Mommy,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Please, let’s stay calm, it’s okay. What happened, Avital called you?”

“No, she drove past. She was on her way to the hospital. And we were sitting outside, with our masks and everything, out in front, no one was coming anywhere near us! But what does she say, our own granddaughter, insisting that we go back inside like a prison!” My mother was becoming incoherent; this was even worse. Someone burst out crying upstairs. I gave up on unpacking the groceries; I had to focus on getting off the phone with everyone moderately calm.

“Mommy.” I waited a moment. “Listen, I don’t know what Avital said, but what’s for sure fine is sitting in your backyard, okay? So take those chairs out and enjoy the sunshine with Daddy. I’ll speak to Avital, maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. But meanwhile, just enjoy the weather, and try to relax. Okay?”

Luckily Avital didn’t hear that. She’d probably say the backyard wasn’t safe either.

I sighed. She was right that my parents had to be careful. She just didn’t realize that it came with a price too.

******

When Mommy called me about a delivery of wipes and disinfectant, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She just didn’t give up, that Avital.

“She’s under too much strain,” Shimon said decisively, when I told him about it. “She’s working crazy hours, the strain is too much for her, she’s too young to be on the frontlines… seeing people die, nebach. Maybe we should speak to her about it, she should cut down her hours or something.”

I couldn’t imagine Avital cutting down her hours. She was passionate about her job. Besides, I didn’t think it would be so simple to get permission from the hospital during this kind of crisis.

“So what did you tell Mommy about the wipes?”

I winced. “She sounded completely frantic. Like she was asking me if she has to wipe off packages, should she wear gloves, and does she have to wipe the inner packaging or just the outer, and what if she leaves it out a few hours first… Then she wanted to know about the deliveries from two days ago, do they also have to be wiped down, and does she have to empty out all the cabinets now…. I told her to relax, just to try wipe down things that someone else has touched before she touches them but not to worry about the things that have already been delivered and so on… it’s just getting too much for her.”

Shimon nodded approvingly. “That sounds reasonable.”

I was still worried, though. It was getting harder for my parents, being cooped up indoors for so long. Not seeing their children and grandchildren. Making Pesach alone. My father sounded low when we spoke, almost depressed. We had to do something, give them something to be excited about. Something to live for.

And then Shifra hit on the perfect idea.

*******

“It’s been absolutely crazy with the chasunah,” she confided in me late one night. “It’s not so simple, these backyard ten-people affairs. I mean, it is simple, in one way, but then you need to figure out who the ten invitees should be. My kids can’t all come, can you imagine? And the photographer and stuff, everyone’s plans are upside down, I feel like I’m starting from scratch a few weeks before the wedding. And anything could change in between….”

I clucked sympathetically. Shifra’s Mali was my Avital’s age. She’d waited a few years for this, it was hard.

“And forget about sheitel appointments and makeup and preparing the apartment,” Shifra continued. “But anyway, that’s not what I called about. Basically, I had an amazing idea, and Mali, bless her, agreed right away. We’re going to do the wedding in Daddy and Mommy’s backyard!”

I was stunned. My parents lived in a tiny house, their front porch was minuscule, and the backyard was a far cry from the spacious, lush lawns that have been hosting the many lockdown-style chuppahs I’d seen over Zoom. There wasn’t much space for an aisle, or pictures, or anything, really.

“Wow,” I managed. “That’s a really… special idea. Mali’s okay with it?”

Shifra laughed ruefully. “Under the circumstances… I mean, the whole situation is hard, right? But we discussed it, and she knows it’s the only way her grandparents will see her get married. It will mean the world to Daddy, you know that, he was heartbroken about having to miss this chasunah. And it’ll be completely safe, they can stay indoors and watch from the window and we’ll have the chuppah outside, some music, whatever, and then we’ll all leave.”

“And,” I realized. “It will give Daddy and Mommy something big to look forward to for a couple weeks. They’ll get busy with what to wear, with hiring people to clean out the backyard, they’ll feel part of all the arrangements, ‘supervise’ the musicians… Shifra, you’re a total genius!”

“Why, thank you,” my sister said. “I just thought, missing the chasunah would be so painful for them, it’s the last thing they need on top of all the stress and loneliness and isolation. So bingo, this was the perfect solution!”

“Perfect,” I agreed.

But when I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but think of Avital. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine she’d think this idea was perfect.

If I could tell Avital one thing, it would be: We’re taking all the essential precautions, but we can’t make people crazy with fear. Emotional strain is just as much a risk to my parents’ health.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 810)