Iona

Iona died last week of complications from Covid19. You knew Iona. She was your neighbor. She was your aunt. She was that teacher in high school that saw you when you thought you were invisible. She was the supermarket checkout worker that winked at you and laughed at your dumb joke that time. 

At the time of writing, there are about 330,000 people who have died from Covid 19. That number is not accurate. We know it is not accurate because some people don’t go to the hospital. Some people die alone at home having never sought help for their illness.

Iona died in the hospital. She died with her sister watching on a mobile phone that a nurse propped up on a table next to the bed. The nurse was holding Iona’s hand and closed her eyes as she listened to Iona’s sister sing a religious song, or a folk song, or a nursery rhyme that their mother had sung to them when they were children. The sisters had sung to their own children and their children had sung to their children. 

Iona was 64. She had lived a good life. She had taken opportunities when they were presented to her and she had worked hard to find opportunities even if they were not presented to her, beyond her reach as a woman. She worked hard. She earned a living. She fed her children. She volunteered her time. She was kind until the end. 

Iona died in the hospital. She died with her wife or husband watching on a mobile phone that a nurse propped up on a table next to the bed. The nurse was holding Iona’s hand and closed her eyes and tried not to listen to the private goodbye that Iona’s wife or husband was saying. 

When Iona was a child, she was poor. She was poor at other times in her life. She was middle class at other times. She was rich. She had just enough. 

Iona loved the ocean, but was afraid of swimming in the ocean. She knew large creatures lived in the ocean and would not want to meet one of those creatures when she was at such a disadvantage in the water. 

She was a businesswoman and a homemaker. She was a seamstress and a talented painter. Iona was complicated and strict with her children. Iona was relaxed and giving to her nieces and nephews and their friends and the children in the neighborhood. 

Iona had survived a war. She told wonderful stories that made everyone laugh. Her memories brought tears to her eyes. She was kind and the nurses and doctors at the hospital where she died loved her. 

Iona was loved. She had stories that she had always meant to write down. She remembered her life in great detail. She wrote a memoir in her imagination. It was widely read and she had fans around the world. 

Iona worked at the supermarket most of her adult life. A steady income. No drama of climbing the corporate ladder. She had anxiety and she helped others. Iona was kind. 

Iona died in the hospital. She died with her adult children watching on a mobile phone that a nurse had propped up on a table next to the bed. The nurse was holding Iona’s hand and closed her eyes and tried not to listen to the private sounds of Iona’s children sobbing.