The Weary World

Two people I know, both health care workers, got the vaccine this week. They’re both fine, no side effects, and others are in line for it.

I’ve been keeping a list, since this started, in my head, of people the world simply cannot exist without, and I am trying to keep everyone on it alive until this is over.

You’re on that list, so if you need something, you ask. Don’t even think about it. Someone can help.

Yesterday Kick and I packed up the car with presents and went around dropping them on friends’ porches to say Merry Christmas, through masks, to wave to people and jump up and down with excitement at the mere sight of one another. We have more to deliver today and more tomorrow. I’m grateful for every single mile we’re traveling because it means somebody at the end is still okay.

We’ve lost so much, this year. So many. And it’s going to be months before the cases drop to zero. Maybe years.

I’ve said all I can say about this: That it didn’t have to happen this way, that we could have controlled and managed and worked harder, that we could have paid everyone to stay home so they weren’t choosing between their present and their future, that we should have and could have done more if we weren’t paralyzed with meanness and selfishness and fear. That we don’t have to sacrifice concretes — the children, alive, here today right now — for abstracts — the idea of some future child burdened by debts that only seem to exist when it’s politically convenient.

We have a winter to get through, and God help us the only way we’re gonna get through is the same way we always have. With one another, hand in hand, second by second.

So string the lights, and build an outdoor fire. Sing carols from the sidewalk instead of the porch, see your loved ones however you ever safely can. I don’t want to hear anyone saying we don’t deserve a moment of grace if we can possibly claw one out of the stones this year. If we have enough, we will find a way to share it, and be as extravagant in that joy as if this was a time of peace and plenty.

Merry Christmas to all of you. I want you here next year, too, okay? So let us know what we can do.

A.

One thought on “The Weary World

  1. Merry Christmas to you. Just keep writing. 🙂

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