From the Editor: Names, not numbers, will tell the story of pandemic

By Andrew West

DOVER — Brandy Burnham was adamant that she wanted her father’s obituary to include the cause of death.

Her father, Andrus J. Aiken Sr., died from complications of COVID-19 on Feb. 7. He was 69.

“I felt it important to let people know that my father passed because of COVID,” said Mrs. Burnham. “It wasn’t anything else. Yes, he had underlying issues, but those underlying issues didn’t kill him.”

Mr. Aiken had already dealt with diabetes, cancer and heart problems.
“These are the things we shake our heads at ... he wasn’t dying from any of this,” said Mrs. Burnham. “He beat so much. But that’s how significant COVID is (when) coupled with any kind of underlying issues.”

She described what has happened to many Delaware families during the pandemic.

Mrs. Burnham and her husband, Danny, shared a home with Mr. Aiken and his wife, Jean. In mid-January, there was exposure to the coronavirus. After tests, they all found out they were positive on Jan. 25 and then remained confined to their home.

Mr. Aiken started to decline rapidly on Jan. 29, his daughter said. The next day, the family called 9-1-1 and an ambulance arrived to take him to Bayhealth Hospital, Kent Campus, where he was soon placed on a ventilator.

“On Feb. 6, we were told that he would probably not make it through the night,” said Mrs. Burnham. “At 2:52 a.m. on Feb. 7, we had gotten the call that he passed away.”

Sharing his story puts a name, a face, a personality on why we need to pause and reflect on the past year.

As of Friday, the state said 1,418 Delawareans have died due to complications of COVID-19. That figure equals 11 of every 10,000 people in the state.

Since Delaware is so small and connected, that means many of those people were family, friends, or neighbors.

Since March 11, we have been reporting positive cases daily. Numbers.
Every day, we report the latest counts. More numbers.

We need to make sure we do not become numb to the data, particularly since we are talking about people.

So, today, we want to suggest 3/11 be a day when we pause and honor those lost.

And we could recognize the many people who stepped up to help and comfort those around them. Perhaps, a memorial could inspire a way for our communities to come together after so many months of separation and isolation.

Should we think of the date with the same reverence we have for Memorial Day, Pearl Harbor Day or 9/11?

For Mrs. Burnham, she now has a greater appreciation of the reading of names at memorial events.

“I never truly understood that,” she said, “but the older I get, the better I understand why they do – because they’re not just a number.”

***

Andrus “Andy” Aiken, in many ways, was a typical Delaware neighbor. He loved life, family and community, his daughter said.

“We had a saying that our father never met a stranger,” said Mrs. Burnham. “We would sometimes get a little frustrated because during a quick trip to the store, he would have to stop and talk to everyone.”
On one shopping outing, he struck up a conversation with the greeter on his way in. When he got home, he told the family he had invited the greeter and his wife over for dinner.

“The greeter was polite and nice, and my Dad talked back,” said Mrs. Burnham. “It turned out they had common interests, and that turned into an invitation. That was not out of the ordinary.”

Mr. Aiken was a veteran of the U.S. Air Force, serving in Okinawa, Japan, Ellsworth, South Dakota, Elmendorf, Alaska, and Dover. After active duty, he worked at General Foods’ Dover plant.

Over the years, he enjoyed coaching Little League baseball, girls softball and men’s slow pitch teams.

Among his joys were cooking and being among family. Reunions, with family and close friends, grew more and more each year to the point where they needed to gather at parks.

Mrs. Burnham described how Mr. Aiken wanted to wow his brother one year on a family vacation. “My dad made all of us learn the words to Garth Brooks’ ‘Friends in Low Places,’” she said. “Once we met up with his brother and sister-in-law, he set things in motion and when he played the song, we all sang collectively to the astonishment of my uncle. A bunch of teenagers who were not country music fans, along with dad and mom singing at the top of our lungs to this song.

“That’s the kind of man my Dad was. He found ways to bring people together and always got us to laugh about things.”

Family, especially, was almost always around his house. Last October, Mrs. Burnham said she and her parents ceased having family over for regular Monday night suppers because they had noticed coronavirus cases were on the upswing.

***

When Mr. Aiken was in his final days at Bayhealth, his wife, daughter and son-in-law were not permitted to visit because they had tested positive.

Under visitation precautions, the hospital allowed one family member to visit.

Mr. Aiken’s son, Andrus, is engaged to Kellie Ford, who works in hospice care. She agreed to be the family’s “eyes and ears” on the first visit. Through glass, she watched him and talked to him loud enough to be heard through an open door.

Ms. Ford’s report back to family was that she thought he knew she was there because a monitor indicated his heart rate picking up.

On Feb. 6, hospital staff alerted the family that Mr. Aiken was nearing the end and allowed Andrus Jr. and his fiancée to see him. After rushing there, they held a phone up at the doorway so the family could say goodbye.

“We told him how much we loved him and that it was OK,” said Mrs. Burnham. “All the grandkids were able to do that and my mom and my husband were all able to do that.”

The acts of kindness and care of the ICU staff were noted in Mr. Aiken’s obituary.

“Spiritually, I know that he was not alone,” said Mrs. Burnham. “But, I think one of the most peaceful and comfort-filled moments was knowing one of the nurses was holding his hand as he passed away.”

Andrew West is executive editor of the Delaware State News.