COVID-19
I'll likely never forget COVID-19. The global pandemic that started as that virus over there that was easy to ignore until it became that virus everywhere that rocked our nation. To its core? Time will tell. For perspective purposes, we've been tracing it in NOLA about two weeks now though some sources are saying it was likely here during Mardi Gras or even the start of the year. But it's been three days since work told us to go home, no longer smart to come into the office. Safer to be home, the city slowing down. Just shy of sheltering in place, though that could soon be our new normal.
"Social distancing" has entered our lexicon in a fierce, new way. Human connection six feet apart. Groups no larger than 10. For a Lenten season where the goal was to disconnect from social media, it's now the primary social connection we have. From memes to fears/anxieties, information sharing to resource requests, it can feel a bit overwhelming. With information pouring in from any and all angles, some accurate, some speculation, it's easy to feel overwhelmed.
My focus remains on giving gratitude for my health and safety. My family is healthy, my parents who age wise are at a greater risk and my grandmothers, both in nursing homes hunkering down. As far as I know, I haven't gotten the virus. My job and paycheck are steady. I'm not at a heightened risk of being laid off and facing uncertainty as to how I'll pay my mortgage and keep my fridge stocked. And if things did go south very quickly, I've got some real estate cash and savings to rely on until things blow over. I'm one of the lucky ones. The very lucky ones. And my heart hurts for so many navigating these challenging times with so much more uncertainty than me.
We're resilient. Resilient people. A resilient city. A resilient nation. A resilient world. COVID-19 won't be the end of our story. Though I know it will be the end of some stories, as every tragedy is. It's not a chapter I hoped to write much less read about. But it's become a chapter we're adapting to living. I'm ready to turn the page without knowing when our next chapter will come.
So we wait. And we hope. And we hold on. We're in this together. You and me.
"Social distancing" has entered our lexicon in a fierce, new way. Human connection six feet apart. Groups no larger than 10. For a Lenten season where the goal was to disconnect from social media, it's now the primary social connection we have. From memes to fears/anxieties, information sharing to resource requests, it can feel a bit overwhelming. With information pouring in from any and all angles, some accurate, some speculation, it's easy to feel overwhelmed.
My focus remains on giving gratitude for my health and safety. My family is healthy, my parents who age wise are at a greater risk and my grandmothers, both in nursing homes hunkering down. As far as I know, I haven't gotten the virus. My job and paycheck are steady. I'm not at a heightened risk of being laid off and facing uncertainty as to how I'll pay my mortgage and keep my fridge stocked. And if things did go south very quickly, I've got some real estate cash and savings to rely on until things blow over. I'm one of the lucky ones. The very lucky ones. And my heart hurts for so many navigating these challenging times with so much more uncertainty than me.
We're resilient. Resilient people. A resilient city. A resilient nation. A resilient world. COVID-19 won't be the end of our story. Though I know it will be the end of some stories, as every tragedy is. It's not a chapter I hoped to write much less read about. But it's become a chapter we're adapting to living. I'm ready to turn the page without knowing when our next chapter will come.
So we wait. And we hope. And we hold on. We're in this together. You and me.
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