I don’t like to make a ruckus – but — I have got to say something.
You may not understand ALL of the nitty-gritty details of all that’s been happening.
(I mean, really, it would be a full time job if one were to follow it ALL, no doubt.)
You may be frustrated with the fallout to the common man.
You might dislike the complications.
You might hate all the things.
But still, to you, I say:
The one who took you out, week after week, rain or shine, walked you across town, at the worst time of day, one bus, then another, to that choir practice you loved so much.
‘Cause your parents were unable to do so.
Made sure you didn’t miss a single one.
And they brought you a meal to devour for dinner those nights.
And a snack to pack in your lunch box the next day.
To keep you happy, full, and make your day bright.
Every time.
That’s why you treasured it so.
You know who I mean.
Someone you’ve known all your life.
Someone who’s shown you the way when you were lost even if it should have been the other way around and you doing it in return.
Someone you’ve watched through the thick and thin of it all, having lost no hope as they taught you what it meant to truly perservere.
You may be having a hard time just coming up with one.
I know.
Make it two, three, or five.
Make it as many as you need.
But think of them.
Most brilliant of them all.
You were little then.
They sheltered you under their wings.
They saw you. They cared for you. They stuck their neck out for you.
And don’t even get me started about your brother.
How much they did for that kid.
They should have gotten a medal.
You barely recognized them when you crossed paths a few weeks back.
No surprise, you’ve never seen them with a cane.
But the smile – ever the same.
That smile is what gave them away.
Now you look at them, salt and pepper hair, like they were a saint.
Your saint.
The one you’d looked up to throughout the toughest of years.
Him and his wife, they hosted you so many times you lost count.
Bless the hands that prepared this took on a whole new meaning in their home.
They became the family you didn’t have nearby.
And you were grateful beyond measure.
They prayed with you, they prayed for you, they held you up.
Words won’t suffice.
Now, his heart isn’t doing so great.
Facing life-altering interventions.
The one you fell in love with. At first sight.
Because – How could you not?
Answering the door, curlers in her hair – her specialty.
You haven’t even bought the house yet and you knew you were in the right place.
At the right time.
This was meant to be.
And when you helped usher her husband into eternity, there was not one eye dry in the church.
Because of the size of his tender heart.
He was a man who knew how to love.
And he was loved well in return.
He, too, became family.
To your kids.
To you.
The whole street.
I beg you.
Think of them.
And then make your decision about what you are going to do about staying at home, following the recommendations on social distancing in this unprecedented situation that we are finding ourselves in, and being smart – and loving of our neighbor – about it.
Don’t do it for you.
Do it for them.
And, if none of that does anything for you –
Remember to remind yourself, that all those dear people – and then some –
The grandparents
The lovingly aging parents
The transplant survivors
The juvenile diabetes overcomers
The lupus sufferers
The aunts with Rheumatoid Arthritis
The cousins with Hashimoto’s
The cancer fighters —
All. These. Warriors. And then some.
They are someone’s mom.
They are someone’s child.
They are someone’s somebody important.
They might even be the only someone to somebody.
No, seriously.
They are someone’s person.
Do it for them.
And for the love of humanity, stay the heck at home.
