House of Wind Book Club

Covid-19. It's not even a sentence yet it elicits a range of complex emotions for most individuals. For me, that virus altered my life thoroughly. The harshness of it, the unpredictability and swiftness took more than health, it took mortality and a chunk of my spirit.

When the pandemic hit I, along with my co-workers and employees, were some of the first to be laid off. I managed a fitness club that fullfilled me in mind, body and spirit. My profession wasn't considered essential. It was at the start, so there were too many questions with few answers. Initally I guessed it would pass in a month- two tops, and I looked forward to spending some time with my husband, whom I rarely saw due to his position in the military.

Being cut off from society only allowed for so little activities. We went from a longstanding weekend brunch tradition to ordering a plethora of fried foods from DoorDash daily. We finished our "to watch" list faster than expected due to all binge viewing we did, and any hobbies we attempted came and went. Spending all day inside lost it's appeal; that even our newfound taste for wine couldn't remedy.

Nearly two-months in, without any tangible estimate of the pandemic ending, we received news that my husband had orders to a different duty station- upon his arrival he'd be deployed. Once gone, there was limited contact creating a sense of abandonment. We were essentially on "lockdown"- no visiting with family or friends. I was in a state by myself, and only had my animals for company.

At some point I accepted that there was no timeframe on when things would return to normal, which meant I would have to make a plan based off limited information. Reconciling that I wouldn't be returning to my job I decided to move to my husband's new home port. Within the month movers had packed up our 1800sqft house while I drove 928 miles to Connecticut with three varying sized dogs, and two 50-pound pigs. The move meant leaving without saying goodbye to my staff, gym members and friends. It also put stress on me, because I had to sale our home. On top of it happening during an epidemic; new carpeting for the whole house had to be put in, a repairment of the HVAC and several fallen offers made it an experience that still leaves my teeth clenched.

Once in Connecticut I didn't have anything to do once the house was unpacked. Social distancing was still in place, so I couldn't meet new people or start a job. The state was strict with Covid- stores limited guests, a lot of places were still closed, and so with no one to see, and nowhere to go I became passionless and isolated. The only time I felt heard was the daily video chats that I had with my dad.

Through those months of loneliness with zero physical contact my dad was my biggest support system. We talked about anything; from the mundane to the juicy family gossip. He listened, maybe internally laughed, as I expressed my yearning to just be able to shop at Target. I swore I'd wait patiently in line. When I wept from missing my husband, he amazed me by his wisdom and the gentleness in his responses. He cheered from afar just as loud as I did when my partner came home.

We had been apart for 8-months, and by the time he came home I was on an upswing. I got a job I enjoyed, more places were reopened that didn't require masks, and we could start being social again, even though the viris remained. I had those few months of normalicy when Covid claimed my dad's life.

My three sisters and I were on a conference call with the doctor when we learned he that he may never wake from his medically induced coma. He was incubated with complications from his prior illnesses further disrupting his progress. I booked the first ticket to Florida, but even then it was too late. There was no goodbye. He left this plane quieter than he entered. My best friend, my favorite soul tribe member was no longer here, and that was losing a vital part of me. I still can't fully describe the emptiness.

The aftermath, felt like a Florida hurricane when I was there, without the physcial storm. There were numerous agruments with my father's wife. She battled us on everything. We didn't get to have a memorial, she didn't want us to have any of his sentimental possessions nor would she share his ashes. When I left Florida I vowed to never go back- so far I've kept that promise.

There's a saying, "when it rains, it pours", and it did in my life. The succession of events following my dad; one broken washing machine, the unexpected death of one of my dogs, and a fire that demolished the building my new job resided in. My spirit was collasping just as fast as the fire took the structure. Not for the first time, but in a long time, I contemplated taking my own life. I didn't see the point without joy- just getting out of bed felt painful. Nightmares crowded my sleep, but it was better than being awake where I had to acknowledge all I had lost- that was before "the girls" found me and before we found the book.

I had been aqauinted with "the girls" but we hadn't embraced our friendship yet. They, like me, kept their circle small. There was an invisible thread that was trying to pull us together, but it was reading that solidfied it. As I grieved, one of them suggested I start a series called A Court of Thorn and Roses(ACOTAR) by Sarah J Maas. It was "sooooo good" that the other girl began reading it, after going several years without having read. I've always been a bibliophile. I have books lining shelves, stacked upon each other on counter tops and tables, and stuffed in bags, but the depression made them decoration collecting dust. Mixed with her persistence and my need to escape reality I decided to pick up the first one in the series; I devoured it!

The series transported me to a fantastical world inhabited with fae, magical creatures, witches, and otherworldly beings. I raced to catch up to "the girls". By the time the fourth book, A Court of Silver Flames (ACOSF) was released we were ready to begin reading it as a group. It's the how and the why of how we formed our book club, named affectionally after the one from ACOSF, "the House of Wind Book Club".

The first three books of the ACOTAR series are fairly romantic, and whereas those had a different protaganist, this one follows her sister, Nesta, as the new main character. Her story is darker. She's miserable honestly with a nasty alcohol addiction. She's broken in the beginning, like me, having suffered great losses. She's withdrawn from the world wearing saddness as a robe. Faith in her own inner strength had been broken into shards of glass. Forget the romance from the rest of the series, her story was raw emotion that translated to my reality.

As she tries to navigate through her trauma she encounters two women who share her affection for reading. They form a book club, "the House of Wind Book Club" where she discovers they are battling their own demons. As a bond forms between the trio they aide one another in their healing. They realize that pain doesn't have to belong to one person. That through support, trust and honesty they're no longer alone. By encouragment and support they become more capable of accomplishments. Their friendship saves them each from themselves.

"The girls" and I read the book at the same pace. After certain chapters we would meet to discuss it. As we'd talk about the character's storylines and backstories we began a dialogue about our own. There were no restraints on our thoughts. Each piece of ourselves we offered was greeted without judgement. A bond formed for us too, made of the thickest gluing agent and cemented as ink on our skin.

A sword with a cut ribbon adorns each of our legs, symbolizing the message of ACOSF, "our stories are worth telling". I'm forever grateful to the author for sharing Nesta's story, because it gave"the girls" and I the confidence to tell ours.