So it is another year, and Covid still runs rampant among us. I don’t want to dwell on it too much this Christmas morning, but some realities strike me in our Christmas activities.

On Christmas eve morning, I wrapped presents for the girls at 3 am to ensure they didn’t catch me in the act. My wife is on nights in the hospital, where she is currently doing her residency. That morning, she came home telling me another story of another patient who proudly stated they didn’t get the Covid vaccine as they were just hours from being intubated. She no longer argues, checks the box for unvaccinated, and vents her frustration to me when she gets home.

Now it’s Christmas morning, the kids woke up bright and early, excited for their presents. Mommy still isn’t home from work; her shift has already lasted twelve hours when the girls open their gifts. At the thirteen and a half mark, she comes home. I can see the beaten look on her face. The girls are jumping around, showing her the presents Santa brought, all while mom tries to keep her distance. Who doesn’t want hugs, but like the past two years, mom resists picking them up and hugging them, not wanting to accidentally give them Covid, which she has already had four times, that we know of and is exposed to all shift long.

I don’t want this to be a sad story necessarily. I want people to get vaccinated, minimize their and other people’s exposure, do the right thing. So maybe next year, when my wife comes home from work on Christmas day, she can reach down and grab up her children. I know she loves so much and squeeze them tight without worry. It is our Christmas wish.

Merry Christmas everyone.