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Back in December 1977, I was separated from my then husband. I had been a stay-at-home Mom, but in order to survive, I had to go back to work, so to re-introduce myself into the working world, I took assignments with an employment agency. I was living with my two sons about 2 1/2 hours away from the rest of my family who lived in Rochester, New York. Because I wanted to spend the holidays with my parents, I asked for a few days off from the agency. They refused to give it to me, so I told them I was taking the time anyway. They cancelled my contract with them. I spent the holidays with my parents, and the rest of the family. Then in May of 1978, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer, and died in June of that same year.

All these years later, and with the Democrats calling for people to socially distance themselves from the rest of their family for the holidays, I was reminded of my own experience of having to make a decision of visiting my family, or keeping a job. As it turned out, 1977 was the last Christmas I got to spend with my father, and I know I made the right decision when I'd been faced with it. Any one who decides to forego spending the holidays with their family because of the virus, needs to remember, that one of those family members might not be here the next time those holidays roll around. I am the last one left in my family. I have my two sons, but only one lives close enough to come for the holidays. The youngest lives in Indiana, and hasn't been able to get back home because of cancer surgery, and chemo treatments last year, along with residual side effects of those treatments, so I travel out there to see him when I can.