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For the past three weeks, I've been watching the situation unfold in India with sheer horror. In 2018, I traveled to India where I met my brother's extended family. I have so many memories of Delhi - the overcrowding, the food (delicious!), the poverty, the huge concerns I had about being a woman there and the wonderful extended family I found there. I look back at my time there with thanks. I am happy to have gone but happy to be back in the United States. So, I've been worried about that extended family. My brother's in-laws went back to India from March to April to help get the key family members vaccinated. I had hoped this would protect some but this week - my biggest fears were confirmed when my sister in law's 90 year old grandfather landed in the hospital on a ventilator. Again, being well-connected in India has resulted in my grandfather in-law getting oxygen AND a semi-private room. We were even able to speak with him today. He sounded weak but he was alive. Which is more than I can say for many in India. I worry about this extended family. I can see in my mind all the funeral pyres - the mass cremations, the lack of oxygen. I see it all and I cringe in horror. Absolute horror. When the pandemic first started, I worried more for India - consumed with the fear that something like this could happen - that the virus would spread and there would be no stopping it? How do you stop a bullet train going 100+ mph? Effort. It makes significant effort. Meanwhile I sit here helpless - waiting for phone calls or text messages. All I can do is support from the sidelines.
May 11, 2021