You get used to your parents being gone, even if you don't want to

Today would have been my mom's 93rd birthday. She passed away five years ago this summer, right in the middle of the pandemic.

What made the whole thing tougher is that we didn't get the chance to see her in person from mid-March, when she went into assisted living after a stay in the hospital, until the day before she died in early July. Covid restrictions and everything, you know.

We got to see her on FaceTime during those chaotic months, but that's obviously not the same thing.

Terry and I were scheduled to see her on July 2nd for a "window visit," where the assisted living folks would bring her to a window (maybe a window screen so we could talk? I can't remember) and we could actually see her face to face.

But a catastrophic fall earlier that week changed those plans in a hurry. Yes, we did get to see her in person on July 2, but it was instead at hospice when she was unconscious and nearing the end of her time on this earth.

She passed away the next day, but not before we had the chance to say our goodbyes. I've always been grateful for that.

Anyway, with my dad having died several years earlier, I've been without my parents for a while now. Terry's mom passed away less than three weeks before mine, and she lost her dad a year and a half ago, so she's in the same boat.

You still have those moments when you want to call them and share some big news or just talk about something that happened to you, and then you remember they're not around anymore. It's a sad, jarring realization.

It happens less frequently now, but it still happens. I've become accustomed to being an "orphan" (as my daughter jokingly put it), though I'm not sure that makes any of it easier.

Have you seen that meme going around on social media that shows a phone screen with an incoming call from "Mom" and "Dad?" It says something like, "If you still receive these calls, be grateful."

I agree. You don't know what you have until it's gone.

I recently had my second bout with Covid...still zero stars, do not recommend

Terry and I both contracted Covid back in January 2021 and were down and out for a solid week. I was kind of hoping that would be my one and only experience with it.

But the virus was nice enough to mutate and hit me again last month. And once again, it took a solid week (and then some) for me to come back. This time, for good measure, I also experienced the loss of taste and smell I had somehow avoided with the first go-round.

Everyone who gets Covid seems to have somewhat different experiences. For me, both times it has been a combination of a nasty head cold with flu-like symptoms that have included fever/chills and a general feeling of extreme "blah," if you know what I mean.

Sickness of any type tries my patience. I simply don't have time for illness, which is why, by day #3 of Covid the Sequel, I was antsy and annoyed. I had work to do. I was missing PA announcing gigs and the income that goes with them. I got tired just cleaning a single toilet, let alone an entire bathroom.

When I get sick, I don't become self-pitying so much as bitter and angry. I HAVE NO TIME FOR THIS.

Speaking of PA announcing, the previous weekend's assignments are likely where I picked up this latest round of Covid. That Friday I had announced a Wickliffe football game, and the next day I did both college volleyball at Cleveland State University and a band festival in the nearby town of Solon.

At some point during one of those events, some attendee unknowingly shared the virus with me. I'm all for sharing, but you can keep this particular gift to yourself, Patient Zero.

I will go way out on a limb to give you this expert medical opinion: Covid sucks. Do not get it.

I continue to believe the vast majority of people try to do the right thing the vast majority of the time

I was thinking back to last summer when my mom and my mother-in-law passed away within 18 days of each other.

It was a pretty rough time, particularly coming as it all did in the midst of COVID, which prevented traditional viewings and funeral services.

I have a lot of memories from the summer of 2020, but one of the most vivid is the way family and friends jumped into action to help us. This mainly took the form of food, which as I've said before is one of the best things you can provide when someone is dealing with the loss of a loved one.

We received mounds and mounds of food. Some of it came in the form of heaping platters dropped off at the house, while some came from gift cards that were given to us. Either way, it was so greatly appreciated and reflected overwhelming generosity on the part of many people.

Now that we know what it's like to be on the other side of this equation, Terry and I tend to be more thoughtful (and hopefully more generous) than maybe we were before in these situations.

I had the opportunity to help recently when one of my new co-workers, Emily, underwent a thyroid procedure that had a somewhat lengthy recovery period. Emily has a husband and two young boys, and we all knew the last thing she needed post-surgery was to worry about how her family was going to eat every day.

So a meal train was organized in the office, and as far as I know, every single slot for many weeks was quickly filled by volunteers. Given what I had learned from my own experience, I jumped in right away to contribute a Grub Hub card, which (believe me) is going to go over much better than had I attempted to cook them something.

Anyway, the whole experience confirmed my belief that most people are essentially decent. None of us is perfect, and we all fall short of where we ideally should be. But I contend that almost everyone you encounter is trying their best under differing circumstances to be a good person.

And I always find that heartening.

Getting back into the habit of packing your lunch

Technically, those of us working at Goodyear are supposed to be in the office two days a week, though most of the leaders I've spoken with are coming in more often.

The vast majority of my work days thus far have been onsite, mostly because I much prefer to conduct onboarding meetings and other coworker interactions in person. Plus, it's just easier to learn the layout of the complex if I'm, you know, actually at the complex.

This is all well and good, except it also means I have to worry about packing lunch and snacks the previous evening. It's not like this is a huge burden, but what with COVID and everything, it's something I've fallen out of the habit of doing over the past 16 months.

I probably take more time getting my workday food together than most people. For one thing, I always take about 10 separate items, since I like to graze throughout the day rather than have a big lunch.

For another, I have to log my food choices into the Weight Watchers app. I'm pretty quick with the app, having used it for a number of years now, but it still takes a few minutes to enter it all.

By the time I get everything packed away into my new lunch box and stored in the fridge in the garage, it has become an actual chore.

Of course, the word "chore" implies I don't like doing it. But it's difficult to complain about a task that's dependent upon having an obscene amount of food in my house from which to choose. This is a "problem" millions of people worldwide would love to have.

So I hope you'll excuse my whining.

Seriously, though, do I take two apples or three? Three. I'd better go with three.

I really need to get back to the dentist

For several years, you could set your watch (or at least your calendar) to my dental visits.

You're supposed to get your teeth cleaned and examined every six months, and many times I was back in that chair six months to the day after my previous exam.

I brushed and flossed religiously. I had the world's best gums.

Then COVID hit, and I haven't gone back since.

Mind you, all it takes is for me to pick up the phone and make an appointment. It's that easy. I just haven't gotten around to doing it.

That's what happens when you disrupt my routine as this virus has done. I fall to pieces.

And I'm pretty sure I have a filling that needs replaced.

It makes me wonder how I'll react—how we'll all react—when our lives get back to semi-normal. Routine things like remembering to schedule a dentist appointment may take a minute to get the hang of again.

It sounds silly, but I do think there's going to be an adjustment period. And maybe that's OK.

What's not OK is this molar of mine. It's getting worse by the bite. I'm calling now.

Canned fruit: A blast from the past

As my wife and I were dealing with COVID recently, my wonderful sister Debbie graciously ordered a whole bunch of groceries and had them delivered to our house so that our family could still, you know, eat while we were laid up.

She quizzed us on some of the items we normally buy, while others she simply selected herself and included them with our order.

An example of the latter was a can of Del Monte Bartlett pears.

I don't remember the last time we bought canned fruit, but those pears were delicious. They also put me in mind of the days back in the late 70s and early 80s when I would come home from school for lunch.

My K-6 elementary school was right at the end of our street. Once the noon bell rang, I would sprint out the door and be home in 2-3 minutes.

When I got there, my mom would (without fail) have a TV tray waiting for me with my already-prepared lunch. As I think back on it, I was unbelievably spoiled by this.

The main course of the lunch varied, but more times than not, there would be a bowl of canned fruit included. It would either be fruit cocktail, peaches, or pairs.

As so often happens when we eat a food we haven't eaten in a long time (or smell something we haven't smelled in years), a rush of memories came flooding back as I ate those pears Debbie ordered. It was suddenly 1979 all over again, and I was sitting in front of the TV watching Card Sharks and happily eating my lunch before going back to school.

By the time I was in sixth grade, a big part of lunch time for me was racing back to school so I could play football at recess with the other guys. Why I didn't just pack a lunch and eat in the school gym, rather than having to wolf down my food at home and sprint back to the playground, I have no idea. It would have been easier.

I suspect that, even then, I knew how good I had it. What a great mom I had.

And man, seriously, what I wouldn't give for a can of cling peaches right about now.

My wife and I recently had COVID. One star, do not recommend.

OK, let's not bury the lead here (NOTE: I should have spelled that "lede" since that's how journalists spell it and I used to be one of them.)

Three things that should first be noted:

• Yes, I had coronavirus, as confirmed by a test at CVS (which I realize isn't exactly the Cleveland Clinic) and a host of symptoms that simply wouldn't go away for the longest time.
• My wife also contracted the virus, though hers was never officially confirmed by a test. But she was right there with me in the duration and severity of her symptoms.
• As annoying as the whole thing was, we had decidedly mild cases in that they did not result in either of us having to go into the hospital or be put on a ventilator like several people we both know.

Like many who have had COVID, I would compare it to a nasty flu bug that hangs on and on. The funny thing was, I really didn't think I had it all the way up until the moment the nurse practitioner from CVS called to tell me my test had come back positive.

Yes, I had been experiencing symptoms for a week-plus at that point, and when I get sick it never lasts that long. But I also never lost taste or smell, nor did I at any time have much of a fever.

I thought those were the two main telltale signs of coronavirus, and in many people they are. Just not in everyone. It turns out the virus manifests itself very differently from person to person.

My main symptoms were constant fatigue and an overall heavy sick feeling that hung over me for two weeks. I was also pretty congested, though that part isn't uncommon for me in the winter.

Terry had an on-and-off fever, that same general sick feeling, and congestion. She was a day or two ahead of me in the cycle, so I could always look to her to get an idea of how the next 24-48 hours were going to go for me.

Thankfully, none of our younger three kids who still live with us got it from us. My daughter Melanie was actually the first in the family to contract the virus a few weeks earlier and managed not to relapse (helped by the fact that she temporarily moved in with a friend after I was diagnosed). And despite significant exposure to both of us, neither Jared nor Jack got it, either.

That was a blessing.

Bottom line: If you get it and are fortunate enough to have a mild case, it's going to take you a while to really feel normal again, but you'll be fine. It's annoying, but it's light years better than a severe case.

Still, if you can avoid it, I would. Stay home when you can, take care of yourself, mask up to protect others in case you are carrying it, etc. You've heard all of this before.

Oh, and break out that Beverly Hillbillies DVD boxed set. You're going to want something to distract you from the fact that your head feels like it got run over by a truck.

Hockey is back, Beethoven not so much

We are, and long have been, big hockey fans in our house.

We have been season ticket holders for our local American Hockey League team, the Cleveland Monsters, ever since the team came to town in 2007. We have two seats to every game every season.

The 14th of those seasons, COVID-delayed as it has been, starts next Friday as the Monsters host the Rochester Americans.We plan to be there for most of the 14 scheduled home games this winter and spring.

(NOTE: The Monsters were originally supposed to open their season tonight in Rockford, Illinois, but their two games this weekend against the Ice Hogs were postponed for reasons related to COVID protocols.)

I am also a subscriber to The Cleveland Orchestra. That group was planning to begin in-person concerts in early March, and I had intended to be there.

Sadly, however (and perhaps not surprisingly), I received an email from the Orchestra this week announcing the cancellation of live concerts this spring. They tried hard to make it work, but considering the advanced average age of a symphony orchestra audience, this decision is likely for the best.

Instead, they will continue offering online "virtual" concerts every couple of weeks, as they have been since the fall.

The question of live event attendance nowadays is an understandably sticky one. Is it safe? What precautions are being put in place? What risk is involved, and is it worth the utter joy of moving back toward something resembling normalcy?

In the case of both the Monsters and the Orchestra, I felt comfortable that the proper steps had been taken to keep audience members like me safe. For hockey there will be limited seating, social distancing, mask wearing, plenty of hand sanitizer, etc.

I am 51 years old and healthy. The typical hockey attendee is even younger and healthier than me. It all seems relatively safe.

Still, I completely understand the rationale of those who believe otherwise and opt out of this shortened season.

I just can't wait for the day when it's not even a question anymore.

Go Monsters, and uh, go Orchestra!