LIKE SHIPS PASSING IN A CORONAVIRUS NIGHT?

 

Pictured are Mrs. Frances Hawkins Crain and Mr. Fred E. Crain, my aunt and uncle.

 

Janelle, my daughter, spends much time at home, virtual-teaching by computer to second-graders. She gets out of her house during some afternoons in order to visit a few shops. Cabin-fever probably forces her to mask-up and venture forth. The COVID-19 pandemic has changed our lives.

Barbara and I saw Janelle during her Christmas two-week break. We met outside for lunch at Greer’s Panera Bread. The wind was cold and strong, and after eating our meals at two different outside tables (so we could social-distance), we retreated to our cars and parked behind Panera. I backed into a space; we left a parking space between us; and Janelle drove straight into the space on the other side of the empty parking space between us. We sat with car windows rolled down and talked — I from my window and she from hers, parked as if our cars were meeting in opposite directions. The expression “like ships passing in the night” came to mind.

Internet sources define “ships that pass in the night” to mean “two or more people who encounter one another in a transitory, incidental manner and whose relationship is without lasting significance.”

“Ships that pass in the night” originates from the poem “The Theologian’s Tale” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The poem reads, “Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, / Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness; / So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another, / Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.”

“Ships that pass in the night” is a metaphor referring to “people who meet, share a few words, and separate to continue their way and never see each other again.”

Of course, I plan to see Janelle again, and our relationship is not “without lasting significance,” but the present pandemic seems to have put us into “ships that pass in the night” situations. I phone Janelle about every other day in an effort to maintain our relationship.

On a recent Sunday, George Hembree, a Vietnam veteran and member of Faith Temple Church, brought his daughter, Angela, to Faith Temple. After church, she approached me about the name “Frances Crain” printed in the church bulletin. Frances’ name is listed there in the prayer concerns. Ms. Angela is a nursing supervisor at Spring Park, a Travelers Rest, SC, nursing home where my Aunt Frances, age 93, lives.

“She’s a sweet person,” Angela said about Aunt Frances.

“We recently visited her,” I said.

Barbara and I had not seen Aunt Frances since March 2020; we made an appointment to meet with her at 3:00 p.m. on Tuesday, Jan. 19, 2021. Wearing masks that day, we found the facility’s front door locked. A supervisor sent us to the outside entrance of the memory-care wing.

An aide seated us in the lobby. Two folding tables had been placed side-to-side to maintain a 6-foot space between Aunt Frances and us. An attendant escorted in my tiny aunt, who used a walker and wore a mask.

“Hi, Aunt Frances,” I said. “Do you recognize me.”

“Well, I’m not sure … ,” she said, as she took a seat opposite us.

I lowered my mask to let her see my whole face.

“Oh, it’s Steve,” she said.

I re-positioned my mask.

“How’s Carol?” She asked.

“She’s fine,” I said. Carol passed on in Jan. 2019, and I believe she is in heaven and is fine. Aunt soon asked again about Carol. I figured I better tell her that Carol died, because Aunt might wonder about why I was sitting there with Barbara (my wife since June 2020). I told her that Carol passed.

“Well, did I know about it?” she asked.

I told her she had known and introduced Barbara, whom she met in early 2020. We chatted for a while.

“Has Fred passed on?” Aunt Frances asked.

I explained that Fred, her late husband, died in Feb. 2018. She asked if she lived at Spring Park and, if so, how long had she lived there. She and Uncle Fred lived at Spring Park for a while before he passed.

“You mean I’ve lived here all by myself? she said. “I mean … with no relatives here?”

I told her that she was cared for and loved. I prayed for her before and Barbara and I left.

I often think of this verse, in regard to older people:

After Jesus was resurrected, he showed himself to several disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. He asked Peter about his love for him, then Jesus said to him: “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou girdest thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not” (John 21:18).

Whether we’re trying to maintain relationships during the coronavirus pandemic or dealing with other challenges, we can always cast our care upon him (Jesus), for he cares for us (1 Peter 5:7).