Writing has always been my escape, whether in a daily diary in my teens or in my articles for our readers. This year, I have weathered the different emotions stemming from giving birth to postpartum exhaustion to returning to work under the pandemic. Writing has comforted me, particularly writing poetry. I’ve written poems honoring our mothers and fathers. I have written a poem to acknowledge my milestone birthday. As we wait for our isolation to end, this poem is for all of us and all things that we miss.
We are counting the days…
The days until we can go to playgrounds,
The days until we can get our nails and hair done,
The days until we can travel by plane,
The days until we can meet up at restaurants, bars, and parties
The days until we can enjoy all the sports we crave,
Basketball ended too soon; baseball: spring isn’t the same without you,
The days until we can hug and kiss the ones we’ve turned away,
The days until we can go shopping without waiting outside the doors,
The days until we can send our children to school,
The days until we can go to church and attend a service or two,
The days until we can see a concert or a play,
Feel the music in our bones and sing the night away,
Virtual dates and virtual classes are a blessing, but they’re not the same,
We are human. We crave personal interaction.
The immediate satisfaction of connection with our coworkers, our loved ones, and strangers.
The celebration of getting together and being together
Birthdays, graduations, a weekend potluck with friends and cousins,
Those are the things we want to do when all this waiting ends.
We are human. We are not made for isolation.
The anxiety of the unknown is ever-present.
But for now, we must continue to wait and stay in place,
Wear a mask and stand apart,
Lean on each other for support,
Hold our children and our partners closer,
Hold on tight; the wait is just a little longer.
The days will be fewer,
Just wait…until it is safe.
