I have been sick in bed for the past six days. Here, in Charlotte, in my small, studio apartment, it has been eye opening. I have never been alone and sick in my entire life.

Granted, it’s not Covid. It’s not the flu. It’s not RSV. I have ruled out all l the scary viruses that those of us over 65 (ahem) are supposed to watch out for. It’s just a plain, old-fashioned head cold. No fever. No body aches. No chills, Just a little bit of coughing. A little bit of sneezing and a whole lot of nasal congestion. I had forgotten just how much gunk the human body can produce with a cold. Man, it’s disgusting.

I haven’t had a cold in years. Last time I got really sick was two years ago when I came down with Covid, which kicked my butt all over kingdom come, as they say. I was in bed for 10 days without being able to even watch television. Then 10 days on the couch. And then a year of fatigue that I thought would never end. But a cold? It’s been years.

And being away from home and being sick? Let’s just say I want my mommy. Of course, she’s been gone 6.5 years so that’s not happening. Same with my Dad. I would love to have my doggies here. They would climb up on the bed and snuggle with me and keep me warm. Cover me with dog kisses. Fight over which one gets closer to me. I would love to have my husband here. He would make me tea and chicken soup, delivered to my bedside all masked up, then slip out before getting close enough to get sick himself. But, at least he’d be in the other room. Wait, there is no other room here. But anyway…

The worst part about being here in Charlotte and being sick? I can’t see my daughter and my granddaughter. It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen Indigo. I saw Mikaela through the door when she dropped off some groceries for me a few days ago. Of course, she can’t risk being exposed to something she could bring back to the baby, so it was a quick “Here you go. Feel better” and off she went. She and Drew check up on me several times a day by text. I know if I need something, they would grab it for me. But I’ve been here since August 1, and have seen them pretty much every day since then. The weird feeling of loss, of even a few days without seeing my grandbaby, is a glimpse into the future of when I leave here in March. Still not sure how I am going to deal with that.

Watching your grandbaby grow, from day to day, is an intense eye-opening experience. I don’t remember watching my kids go from being a “potato” to being able to reach for things or being able to roll over from one side to the other. I don’t remember the moment when they went from simply lying on their stomach to lifting their head up and looking all around. I’ve talked with my siblings and my friends who have grandbabies and we all agree we were much too busy making sure they were still breathing and not choking on their spit up. It was harder to just enjoy the moments of growing. The moments of change, sometimes from one day to the next. Spending time with a grandbaby gives you the luxury of being able to take all of those moments in and actually feel them. I guess I’ve been lucky – ten times over – because I’ve actually been able to watch it from day to day.

Hopefully, in a few short days, I’ll be able to get back to being Indigo’s nanny. I’m sure she’s mastered many things in the time I’ve been sick. And I can’t wait to see it all.