I am seeing less and less masks.
I am seeing less and less patience in staying six feet apart.
I am seeing more and more demands to make things “normal” again.
It’s as if collectively we have forgotten why we were staying home and staying apart from each other. It’s as if collectively we have forgotten the stories of doctors and nurses from New York and Italy and around the world about people lined up in the hallways waiting for a bed that isn’t available.
Forgetfulness is a means of survival, but ultimately it’s pretending.
Pretending that we aren’t still living in a global pandemic. Pretending that we can go back to a life that used to exist. Pretending that there aren’t millions of people without jobs and livelihoods. Pretending that the time at home hasn’t changed us to our very core.
Our minds will forget parts of this life even if we have taken time to journal and remember. Our minds will forget because they are trying to find equilibrium.
But our hearts won’t forget. Our hearts will remember the suffering and the grief and the loneliness. Our hearts will remember the way the numbers continued to rise every day, every hour.
And maybe just maybe our hearts will remember the hurt and remind us to love and care for each other.