It's The End of the World As We Know It

It’s already Easter in Budapest, and it’s now 50 days since I have seen my husband and children. We were supposed to be together in San Jose to celebrate Good Friday and the rest of Spring Break, but a global pandemic had its own agenda. I keep reliving my decisions and alternating between regret and grief. If I had deferred my entry into the Foreign Service, I would still be in Budapest with my husband and children, a choice and a consequence that I battle with every single day lately. Leaving my family was not something I ever wanted to do. I never wanted to spend a moment without any of them. The choice to leave was not one of convenience or fun or even ambition, to be honest. I made the decision with my family, to try and better our circumstances and our future. We knew going in that there was a chance--even a probability--that we would not be posted together at first. But the fact that our family could benefit from two full-time salaries and, eventually, two government pensions was a big carrot. Also, the fact that my entire adult, professional life has been based upon my spouse’s position (and whether or not there were jobs available at Post) was something that grated on all of us. We were all suffering from hiring freezes, years without open positions for me, and waiting for the day when I wouldn’t just be the “trailing spouse.” But no one could have imagined where we’d find ourselves just three months later.

The world has changed forever due to COVID-19. My children are learning by wi-fi. My husband is spending nearly every waking hour as father and mother, teacher, diplomat, and friend in a huge, empty house on a hill an ocean away from me. I spend my days completing online classes and alternating between exercise, wine, and fear. We have no idea when we will see each other again. We have no idea how long it will be until this will end. We wonder. We regret (or maybe it’s just me). We keep in touch via video chat, which I am so, so grateful for. I wonder if we’ll ever be the same again once this is over, and I hope my kids won’t hold it against me.

I haven’t touched another human in thirty days, at least (the last I remember is touching shoulders with a colleague on the bus during our FACT training week). I haven’t hugged or kissed a person in fifty days. And I don’t know when I will again. My job is such that I am stuck here in Arlington, the next COVID-19 hotspot according to CDC projections. My only goal at this moment is to stay healthy and to stay alive so that I can hold my husband and my children again one day--no matter how long it takes. I will do the time, and so will they.