In my head, I tell myself that I should not be so affected by what is going on in the world. I’m already about as social-distanced as it gets. I already stay at home most of the time, unless you count walks down the road, runs in the pre-dawn on the same empty roads, checking cattle, or noting that the UPS delivered something in the U-Haul truck because the UPS truck has been broken down for months.
I’ve been diligent about anyone coming on the place and disinfecting and not having physical contact. But the occasion to do that is rare anyway.
But I do note certain things: I miss meeting my girlfriends for coffee once every couple of months. I miss going to pizza and ice-cream with our good friends. I miss having a meal out when I don’t have to plan and cook. And I miss the idea of gathering around a table to share a meal.
I have nothing to complain about and everything to be thankful for. And I hurt for those who’ve lost jobs and homes and livelihoods, and who have lost family members. And I shake my head at those with no respect for the health of others. And I pray and hope and am reminded every morning by the stars in the sky that we are created for all that is love and to do what is good and right and what lifts up and does not cast down. As our local TV station keeps repeating in commercials: “Do what is right, even when it’s hard. And be kind.” Be kind. Be kind.