Matt Chung's Site

Tag: covid19

  • COVID-19 stunting Elliott’s social skills

    COVID-19 stunting Elliott’s social skills

    Like almost every other parent, my wife and I are doing our best to shelter our 16-month year old daughter, Elliott, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, us parents trying to fabricate a bubble with some sense of normalcy. Up until recently, I tricked myself into believing that we could mask (or minimize) the impact of social distancing on Elliott. Unfortunately, I no longer hold on to that belief.

    On Monday afternoons, Jess attends a (remote) hour long appointment and during that time, I break away from my office and watch over Elliott. This past Monday, Elliott and I walked — well, I mostly carried her — to the neighborhood park located right around the corner. And when we arrived, in the distance (about 50 feet) were two young girls (around six and two years old) and their nanny, the three of them sitting cross-legged in a circle on the ground, feasting on their homemade picnic.

    Elliott waved her little hand at them and caught the attention of the one of the little girls, who raced over and introduced herself, abruptly stopping just about six feet away from us.

    “I’ll keep my distance, because of the coronavirus.”

    After shooting the shit with this 6 year old for a couple minutes, we parted ways and Elliott and I continued walking towards the swing area. I noticed that Elliott was still gazing at the two little girls sitting in the distance. When I planted Elliott down on her own two feet, she spun around and faced the direction of the girls, turned her heads towards me, then stretched her arm our towards them, pointing her index finger in their direction, signaling to me she wanted to go play. But I had to explain to her that she couldn’t and that we needed to keep our distance.

    Elliot started bawling. Non stop.

    I felt so sad for her.

    I squatted down to her eye level, trying (as best as I could) to gently explain to her that she couldn’t go play with them. But it was no use. Nothing I said comforted Elliott.

    God damn this pandemic.

    I hope and pray that this pandemic ends soon and that we can return to our “new normal”, a normal that allows children to run around with each other, play tag, hug one another, without them fearing, or their parents fearing, for their lives.

  • To fading memories

    To fading memories

    One silver lining of COVID-19 is that I’m working remotely from home and despite the constant interruptions, I’ve grown to appreciate situation. I’m afforded experiences not normally available to me when working physically in the office. Among which is seeing my daughter grow up, right before my eyes. Every day, I catch these fleeting moments, such as her lifting her chin up and staring softly and lovingly at her mom.

    Yet, these beautiful moments strike fear in me.

    I have not been able to shake that idea that that Elliott will forget about the dogs — Metric and Mushroom — once they pass away, memories of them vanishing too. Compared to us humans, dogs live a short life span, an unfair reality. And my dogs, in particular, have likely reached their half-life. So, every time the two dogs roll around on the floor with Elliott and every time Elliott puckers her lips and lays a wet one on their noses, I simultaneously feel both joy and pain. Joy for the current moment. Pain for the future.

    I fear that Elliott’s memories of the dog will fade because I too forgot about my first dog. Apparently, I grew up with a German Shepherd, named Champ. Apparently, Champ was present in the first two years of my life— but I have zero recollection of him.

    I do wonder, though, how much of Champ left an imprint on me. Did his presence early on in my life influence my “random” decision of choosing a German Shepherd breed for my first dog?

    Perhaps.

    Back to my Elliot. I painfully understand that she’ll only remember, if I’m lucky, fragments of her first two dogs. She’ll forget their unique smells. She’ll forget the countless number of times we pulled out dog hair from her mouth during lunch. She’ll forget all the times she woke up from a nap, screaming for them to join her in bed.

    She’ll forget the first day she met the two dogs, the day we brought her home from the hospital, when both dogs dutifully slept by her crib, neither dog leaving her side, obediently guarding her. She’ll forget all the times she purposelessly threw scraps of food on the floor for them to lick off the ground.

    But as her father, I’ll never forget. I’ll remember them, cherish them, and hold on to them, dearly.

    And the best I can offer her, and myself, are capturing and collecting and sharing these memories.

    So, here you go, Elliott. Here are a few snapshots of your childhood with the doggies.

    Elliott and Mushroom

     

    Elliott and Metric