A changed world

Things have changed, that’s an understatement. This virus is like a thief, sneaky, sly, covert. Robbing us a little more each day. Pillaging us of normalcy, comfort, hope. Depositing in its wake sadness, recklessness, despair. Things have changed.

How easily we adapt as humans to social distancing, wearing face masks to the grocery store, working and learning from home. Somehow allowing our loved ones to die alone, no familiar voice or smells, no hand-holding. We do as we are told, surreal and compliant. We are rule followers at best.

I heard that there will be no more handshaking, a thing of the past. A timeless show of respect, a thank you, an appreciation. Will an “elbow bump” somehow suffice? Yes, things have changed. Air hugs have replaced real hugs.

I visited my Mom last week and as she stood on her front porch, I stood in the driveway. I wanted one of her hugs, a Mom hug, the one that tells you everything will be OK. I yearn for a hug from my besties, the ones that wrap you up in comfort, reassurance, solace. The ones that are instinctual when you walk in their door. This virus stole hugs from us. A predator at best.

When the world makes sense again, we will all rejoice in our own way. But when we get to hug our loved ones, this time hug a little harder, hug a little longer, don’t be the first to let go. And as you stay there wrapped up in that slice of comfort, say a silent prayer that you will be granted the gift of being present with them on their last day on earth.

Corona means crown in Latin. I long for the crown to be lifted and normalcy to reign.

Elizabeth Melvin

Branford