Yesterday, a group of twenty or so of my relatives gathered to honor my Uncle Roger on what would have been his 73rd birthday.

Roger died on November 7, 2021. He did not die of COVID. But he died during COVID. And so, this birthday gathering, this memorial to a husband, a brother, an uncle, was not done in person.

It was a gathering over Zoom. A computer screen grid of faces who haven’t been together in a great many years. A shared space of disparate living rooms and kitchens and offices and children and beasties across five states and three time zones that would have been impossible otherwise.

Yet there we all were.

And it was chaos.

The first forty minutes or so was a cacophony of Elders struggling with the unfamiliar technology, with children and nieces and nephews attempting to explain gallery view while those unused to video meet-ups talked over one another. There were frozen screens and audio drop-outs, and one brother providing tech support to another in full hearing of the rest of the group. There was the cousin who turned off her video for a moment and the resultant exclamations from the Elders of “We lost Pam again!” and Pam’s off-camera assurance that she was still very much there, just attending to the mischievous Elliot. There was the cousin who attempted an early foray into comments about COVID restrictions and Biden only to be admonished by either his mother or an aunt to not talk politics.

Yes, it was chaos.

And it was beautiful.

In truth, it felt very much like family gatherings before the pandemic. The joyful and excited talking over each other. The snide political comments and hilariously crude jokes and random interruptions by small children and my dad’s brothers heckling one another. There were exclamations of joy as late-comers arrived. There was drinking and laughing and memory sharing.

There was laughter.

There were tears.

Hugs may have been missing, but the love was strong.

The love was palpable.

A few years ago, the idea of a virtual family gathering, much less a virtual memorial, would have been seen as distasteful. But, that was back when “pandemic” was only used to refer to historical tragedies. Back when we took our time together for granted. Now, Zoom is a household word even for those who’ve never actually used it. And those of us who do use it or similar technologies as part of our new normal are growing weary of the virtual space, and for good reason.

The pandemic has been a dark period, for sure. But there have been gifts hidden in the shadows for those willing to look. A greater appreciation for time together. A realization of what truly matters. A new willingness to set boundaries, to protect what is most precious. An openness to new ways to join together, even when apart.

If it weren’t for the pandemic, yesterday’s gathering wouldn’t have happened.

I’m not just referring to the specific, virtual nature of the event. I’m referring to those twenty or so people coming together to celebrate Roger’s birthday. That would not have happened. There likely would have been an in-person memorial but I am certain that only a small subset of us would have been there. Most likely I would not have made it.

But no one had to book a flight and rent a car and find a hotel. No one needed to use vacation time or hire a pet sitter or find child care. With the exception of a device with which to access Zoom and an internet connection, there were no barriers to entry for this gathering.

And so, together, we all laughed at Dad’s story of how, as a boy, Roger would call the telephone operator to ask for help with his homework. Together, we recalled Roger’s conversion van and his past dogs and his gentle nature and his woodworking magic and his love of people.

Together, we held space for his wife, Jeanette, in her grief and heartbreak.

We were together. Even if we weren’t in the same physical space, we were in the same heart space. And isn’t that, ultimately, what a family gathering is all about?

Isn’t that, ultimately, what love is all about?

*With thanks to Gabriel García Márquez for the title inspiration