Dear Artie,

This month marked a notable milestone in our family life: our first (known) COVID infection. A couple of Mondays ago, your dad and I both noticed that you seemed extra lethargic. I chalked it up to the usual Monday blahs that can follow staying up too late on Sunday night, but you were still low-energy and had a low appetite on Tuesday. Then, on Wednesday, you had a stuffy nose in the morning, so I had you do a PCR test before I sent you off to school. I was expecting it to come back negative, because you really didn’t seem very sick. However, Mubby and Skitter were planning visit the next day for your band concert and some other family events, so I wanted to be on the safe side.

While we waited for the results to come back, your dad and I went to your school to see the art show. You had two pieces on display that you made in your graphic design class. You’ve really enjoyed that class, and you signed up for advanced graphic design next year. We got to chat with you and your art teacher for a bit at the art show, after which time you took off to participate in a protest against proposed (and now passed) legislation that will undoubtedly be hurtful to LGBTQ+ people in our state. You had my full support to protest, and I was proud when I saw you in some media coverage for the event.

Around 2:00 that afternoon, as you were exercising your rights, your test results came back: positive. I was startled but not truly shocked, as we knew it was probably going to happen at some point. Our fall booster shots have probably waned in effectiveness by now, and though you do mask at school, it’s impossible to mask all the time, especially considering your involvement in band. The fact that you weren’t very sick also eased my mind, at least for you. I was also relieved that we caught your status before Mubby and Skitter came, because they’re at higher risk for serious complications. I was worried for your dad and me, since I know quite a few folks our age who’ve had a rough time with it. Teens and kids usually breeze through it, but especially with your dad’s asthma, I didn’t want to take chances. We all masked in common areas of the house, ran our Corsi-Rosenthal fan filter all the time, and kept the windows cracked for airflow. You retired to your room and stayed there for days, except for brief trips to the bathroom and to accept the tray of food I left in front of your door.

Of course, we had all been hanging out together unmasked during the early days before we knew you had COVID, so we knew our efforts didn’t guarantee success. So far, though, we’ve all tested negative. We’ll probably do one more round of PCR tests next week, mostly because our tests are expiring, but also because it would be nice to have final confirmation that we escaped (for now).

Now, though, we’re considering you no longer infectious, since you’ve had two negative rapid antigen tests. We’ve certainly plowed through our stash of tests. I’m working on replenishing our supply before insurance stops paying for them in May. I also understand that the Test Iowa free PCR testing program is going to end at some point, possibly in December. That will be a bummer, as we’ve relied on that service for accurate and painless tests throughout this whole pandemic.

In any case, it’s wonderful to have you back with the family. I missed you so much that I had to FaceTime with you once during your quarantine. Even though I knew you were right across the hall, it just wasn’t right not to have you at the dinner table. It did give us good evidence that our strategies were effective, though. It helped that you’re a naturally hermity person. It would/will be a lot harder to contain an infection if Tobin or Callum brings it home, since they’re both a lot more inclined to social interaction. I’m glad to be done with it for the time being, though. You said you never even felt bad after the first few days, and even then it wasn’t too much. You said it wasn’t even as unpleasant as a bad cold. I hope that’s the case if and when others in the family get it

Unfortunately, due to your quarantine, you had to miss both your school band concert and a jazz band trip to a music festival in Davenport. Another jazz band trip to Cedar Falls got cancelled earlier in the winter due to a blizzard. All in all, you’ve had fewer musical opportunities than we’d hoped. Still, you did well in your classes this trimester. You got all As and a couple of A+s, along with one B+ borne of failing to turn in a couple of assignments. We’ve talked about how an earned B+ is fine, if you’re doing your best, but just slacking off and not doing the work isn’t cool. I don’t like to nag you about school work, but I want you to build productive study habits and not coast on smarts. Intelligence is valuable, but getting the work done is just as important.

Your current favorites: discussing the show Breaking Bad with me, which you watched a long time ago but I’m just starting; playing Zelda, Breath of the Wild; pasta; cream soda; playing with Callum; bantering with Tobin; and hanging out in your room. You were truly the ideal quarantine patient, never complaining. Sometimes when you weren’t with us at the dinner table, I imagined that you’d gone to college, but that made me even sadder so I stopped going it. I’m so glad you’re back with us now. I really missed you.

The music department at your school leads a trip to Great Britain every spring break, and I could see you wanting to do that at some point down the road (even sooner than college). I’m girding my loins already. I am glad you are learning and growing, but I sure am fond of you. You’ll always have a spot at my table.

Love,

Mom