This Life in Isolation piece is written by Director Emily Haugen’s mother, Lori Haugen. Lori lives in Fairmont, Minnesota.

Just a few months ago, when winter still held our state in its icy grip, this life we’re living was the stuff of fiction, movies and speculation on the part of epidemiologists. It was unthinkable, really. A global pandemic? But here we are.

Our little agriculture-centered county in southern Minnesota was, strangely, hit especially hard early on. On March 18, just as the snow was beginning to melt away, we had our first official case of COVID-19, and within a couple of weeks there were almost 30.

It turned out someone who didn’t know he had the virus attended a meeting at a church and shared it with a number of people. The numbers of infections spiked here, despite our small population, which was a little frightening. Three families I know lost an elderly loved one. Also frightening, and heartbreaking.

Meanwhile, I’ve been put on leave from my part-time job, our college girl is home, and three younger children, ages 16, 13 and 7, are adjusting to learning at home. The 16 year old battles her way through a ridiculous number of different platforms to complete her lessons. The 13 year old gets up at 6 a.m. so he can finish school by 8:30 a.m. and play video games. The 7 year old still needs someone to lead her through her lessons, so that’s my new job. My husband, thankfully, continues to work.

At our house, it’s a complicated ever-changing tangle of relationships, alliances, laughter, friction and closeness. It’s retreating to separate corners to tackle work and then coming together for a meal.

It’s still busy, but a different kind of busy. And it’s often stressful.

The challenge is to keep things sane, by being active, getting things accomplished, doing something creative, working in a little variety with a movie night or an interesting meal. And giving each other a little grace when we happen to be less than our best selves. In a house full of six people, social isolation doesn’t feel isolated.

To get some exercise, we frequently head out to the beautiful park in our backyard, with paths that meander by lakes, farm fields, woods and a disc golf course. The sunshine, fresh air and activity are rejuvenating. We’ve watched the snow melt as winter turned to spring, back to winter briefly, then back to spring, with the return of green grass, robins, pelicans, ducks and cardinals.

The seasonal change made me think of something a gardener friend once told me about. There is a method of planting seeds in the winter, where you put the seeds, in soil, in a milk jug and set it outside while it’s still winter. The seeds endure the harsh winter freezing, the warming and cooling temperatures, melting snow and occasional rain, until spring when they sprout and are ready to be planted in the soil. My friend told me about how plants started this way are much stronger and healthier.

This time of pandemic has been a dark, cold winter of sorts – with hardships and difficulties, loneliness and heartache. But the spring is coming – numbers of new virus infections are down, and there are signs that things may begin to loosen up and reopen soon.

Like the seeds, having lived through the harsh difficulties we’ve experienced, we are coming out of this stronger. In our area, new cases of COVID-19 have dropped off. We are closer to those we’ve been sheltering with.

The things we have taken for granted, like good health, being able to attend a church service or go to a restaurant with friends, we will find new gratitude for.

We’ve been tested and know, with God’s help, we can endure.

Lori Haugen can be reached at lorihaugen@midco.net.
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Lori Haugen is the mother of TommieMedia Director Emily Haugen. She lives in Fairmont, Minnesota and is a graduate of Concordia College in Moorhead, Minn. She has worked as a journalist, freelance writer, editor and librarian.