It's May 19th, 2020, and my family and I have been living in the altered universe of COVID-19 since March 16, the first day school was cancelled where we live. Like many, we assumed with what was, in hindsight, naive optimism that school would resume in a few weeks. Never in their wildest dreams did any of my children think they were saying good-bye to their friends until fall on that Friday before. . . . before all of our lives changed forever. And they have, indeed, changed forever. Never again will I look at colds or coughs in my family the same way. Never again will I look at some of my friends and acquaintances in the same way. And never again will I look at politics the same way.
Identity politics is problematic in the best of times, and this new COVID-19 landscape has even further divided an already divided country, much to my deep, deep shock and utter dismay. Logic and reason have been replaced with ignorance, fear and anger, and our true hearts have been revealed. Hearts that yearn for ease and comfort, perhaps unwittingly (though sadly, not always) at the expense of the weakest and most vulnerable among us. Hearts that cry out for liberty, all the while forgetting that true liberty must be constrained by responsibility or all we are left with is chaos. Hearts that cry out for a return to normal. . . only, there is no more normal. Going forward, we have to find a new normal, a normal that can accept and accomodate this new and deadly enemy, a normal that makes room for new ways of living, and one that is prepared to face dying a bit more often than we would prefer.
We are all weary, and many of us are scared. Most of us have never seen our economy take this hard of a hit, and none of us have seen a disruption of this magnitude in our lifetimes. We are living in a watershed moment in time, and none of us was prepared for it. And while a bit of my heart has died as I have seen the ugliness that has sprung forth from this chasm, I have also been deeply moved at the goodness that has arisen. The smallest acts of kindness have provided me with great laughter, and joy, and even hope. It is these things I am holding on to as we move forward day by day into this unknown territory. Yet in spite of all of this, I must confess that I look forward to the day when I can say, "Remember when . . . ?" Stay safe, everyone!
