On Jan. 4 our lives were changed forever. My father, Terry Sharrow, passed away due to his COVID-19 complications. My name is Tim Sharrow, I am a health and physical education teacher and my wife, Yvette, is a life science teacher at Lehighton Area Middle School.

We have two sons, Ty, who is a senior at Keystone College, and Tate, who is a junior at Carbon Career & Technical Institute. We have faced the same challenges like so many families with COVID-19.

Ty has his college classes in-person and virtually, while Tate attends CCTI with a hybrid schedule of in-person and virtual learning. Lehighton is completely in-person for the middle school and elementary schools, while the high school is following a hybrid schedule. Yvette and I feel lucky that we can see our students in person every day. I wanted to share how COVID-19 had affected my family through my mother Lou Ann Sharrow’s story:

Lou Ann Sharrow’s story

My world, my existence has been shattered by COVID-19. I feel dark inside today like the sky with its cloudy grayness of a cold snowy day.

My journey - and that of my husband, Terry Sharrow - with COVID-19 began before our positive diagnosis on Dec. 21. We never expected to be a statistic of this dreaded monster. We took all the restrictions seriously, so we never expected to be part of COVID-19’s devastation.

I first suffered from flulike symptoms Dec. 14: headache, chills, body aches and exhaustion that existed for 24 hours. Then I was symptom free until Dec. 19. I woke dizzy with a sick feeling. I suggested to my husband that maybe I should be tested for the virus. He agreed and since he was having sinus issues, he also wanted to be tested. We were swabbed that morning, and he was prescribed a cough medicine and Flonase. The medics told me to take whatever I take when I have a cold. We went home to quarantine until the test results would be received.

The dreaded positive diagnosis came Dec. 21.

We discussed how we felt after seeing so much of the virus for the past year on the news. We were modern day lepers in our cave, isolated and unclean and untouchable. We knew Jesus healed a leper. We felt His loving presence in our lives as hundreds prayed for our healing. We felt at peace as we started our journey in this unknown territory.

We cannot tell the future or know always what is the best decision. We received a call the next day with an offer to travel to Jersey Shore hospital for an IV treatment. We were not feeling well and did not want to drive there, so we declined the treatment. I have regretted that choice since.

On Dec. 23, Terry had an awful cough and I was sicker with body aches, chills, headache but no fever. We were monitoring our oxygen levels at home. I was 89% and Terry 85% in the morning. By evening, though, Terry had dropped to 72%, and doctors said he had to get to an ER.

I took him to Geisinger Bloomsburg Hospital, since it was closer. Later that evening, he was flown to Geisinger Danville. He called to let me know and was in good spirits as he had never flown before and had no desire to. He said it wasn’t so bad, and I joked our family would want us to start traveling by plane. He laughed.

On Christmas Eve, Terry seemed to be recovering. We all texted or spoke to him on the phone. A phone ringing woke me at 3 a.m. Christmas morning in pitch darkness. I thought I was having a nightmare - I was starting to live in one. The Geisinger doctor on the line told me that as he came on duty for the night, a patient was coding. It was Terry.

“We got him stable after his lung collapsed. He had to be put on a ventilator and was in critical condition,” the doctor said. We had gotten the same virus. Terry was on a ventilator, and I was still home. How could this be happening?

Dec. 27 the call from Geisinger told us that Terry was on high oxygen through a very tight mask. I asked about remdesivir treatment and the medical officials said he refused it when he was admitted because a side effect could be kidney failure. Instead, Terry was treated with blood plasma and steroids with no success. I asked if they could start the remdesivir and they did. He was better the second day of treatment, and we were then hopeful for improvement. The third day, he was worse again. He became very anxious and could not have any medication for anxiety because of his difficult breathing.

I could not be there to hold his hand and comfort him. We had never in all our years together been apart so many days. We were both in agony beyond words.

Geisinger staff was totally committed to his care and often would FaceTime me, and our children and families with him.

I wanted to be there to comfort him, but was told I could only go there his last day. I hoped his last day would be discharge to home. But then, at the end of a week of suffering for Terry, his doctor called to say it was time to let him go. We had a conference call with our three sons and made the difficult and loving decision.

I would go to be with him Jan. 4, when doctors would take off life-giving oxygen. Our sons and their families were able to be with me and their father through a Zoom connection to his ICU room while he passed away. Our family would never think of him as a statistic of COVID-19.

He was a child of the living God, loving, unselfish, caring, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother, an uncle, a teacher, a coach, a mentor, and a friend.

Since his death, our family has seen an enormous outpouring of love from many areas of his life.