We didn’t know if we would ever hear his voice again.

But as we entered the ICU that early morning to try and catch the first medical rounds, we were surprisingly greeted with excitement and smiles from the nursing staff. After days of helplessly watching him on life support, my Dad was awake. But his eyes weren’t just open- he recognized us and was breathing on his own.

Within in a few hours, they had removed his ventilator and though he was weak, it wasn’t long before he was able to start talking. Dad’s body was wrecked, but his spirit was there in full and he even started cracking jokes, quoting Bible verses, and emphatically told us how much he loved us.

Dad loved meeting new people and even in such a tragic situation, you could tell he loved having the medical staff at Providence as an audience. They wrote “Captain Neil” on his stats board, a nickname he created for himself from owning his own taxi business. And though we didn’t want to leave him that evening in fear he might slip away again, he urged us to go home and get some rest. He affectionately looked at the nurses in the room and said, “It’s ok, I’m in good hands here.”

 It was heartbreaking to see him so weak and sick, but those last days with him in the hospital were a miracle and a gift. And he was right- the doctors and nurses at Providence really did give him the best possible care and support that we could have asked for.

I wish I could say that after waking up, Dad made a full recovery and we got our happy ending. Unfortunately, after a few days of hopeful progress, his condition worsened and he slipped away into another coma. And just 2 weeks after his first symptoms of pneumonia, he had gone to be home with Jesus.

That was almost exactly 4 years ago. And so when the pandemic flipped all of our lives upside down last March, I couldn’t help but feel like I was having some sort of crazy nightmare déjà vu experience. The symptoms of COVID-19 and the loss people were having so closely mirrored what I had gone through with my Dad, I felt like my I was frozen in a silent scream.

This might be an understatement, but March is hard.

Maybe like you, I can’t wrap my brain around 2.6 million people losing their lives to a terrible virus. It feels impossible to comprehend what those statistics really mean, especially if you haven’t personally walked through a loss yourself.

But every single number has a real person behind it and a story. They are people who maybe didn’t expect life to take this sudden turn. They had a favorite food, children they loved, and more jokes to tell. And their deaths have a ripple effect that touches countless others- 2.6 million may be gone, but hundreds of millions of us are left to sort through the grief and pain that the pandemic has left in its wake.

Behind every number, there are also countless medical workers who rose up and fought for the lives of their patients but still had to watch them lose that fight over and over again. Putting their own safety at risk, they show up to do the hard work to try and stop that enormous number from growing. I feel so indebted to our doctors and nurses right now because of all sacrifices they have made over the past year. And though I may not be able to literally save a life myself, I can thank someone who has.

So let’s honor the millions this month who have lost their lives or been impacted by the loss of a family member by COVID-19.

Let’s honor the incredible bravery and hard work of our medical community who never cease to fight the good fight and care for our sick loved ones.

And let’s honor the memory of my Dad, Captain Neil, who never ever took a day of his life for granted. A person who cherished people and God above everything else and who left a legacy of love and hope for me to try and follow.

How the Bake Sale for Hope Works

Proceeds for my Bake Sale of Hope this month are going to Providence Medical Center, in gratitude for their care for my Dad and for those affected by COVID-19 or other life-threatening illnesses. I have set up a fundraiser on Providence’s website here: https://orppm.give.providence.org/fundraiser/3160153

Give a donation of any amount to the fundraiser and you get two choices:

• You can connect with me and I will get you a baked good of your choice (if you live in the Gresham/East Portland area)

OR

• You can choose to donate your baked good to an essential worker. This month I will be donating the treats to nurses and medical staff in our community in honor of their hard work!

Don’t forget:

If you want to connect for your baked good, please make sure to put your name on your donation so I can follow up with you. If I don’t know you personally, include how I can reach you in the comments or email me at heather.wiese@gmail.com

You can also pay through Venmo or cash at pick up- just leave a comment below on this post and we can connect!

Choices for March 12^th-March 16^th

• Pound Cake with Raspberry Blueberry Sauce

• Cocoa Almond Meringues (Gluten-free)

• Snickery Bars (Caramel, peanut, chocolate and shortbread bars)

• Egg rolls (shrimp, veggie, pork or chicken) fresh or frozen

I will have a new selection next weekend! If you’re curious about how the Bake Sale for Hope got started, check out my post here.

Thank you to everyone who has already given- my hope is that this inspires others to give generously and brings just a little bit of joy to dark places.

“And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.” – Maya Angelou