Yesterday was my grandmother's 80th birthday. As time passes, more of us have strange celebrations with limited and fragmented audiences. We talked on the phone for just under half an hour. We talked about how politicians and our neighbors were failing and surprising us. She mentioned she was writing down stories about our family. We could leave unsaid why she had a sudden interest in recording her thoughts and memories. It was clear.
We all try to put our brave faces on, which isn't that hard when our communication is bound by phone calls and video chats for an hour at a time at the most.
We talk about November - a magical time we had already planned to spend together. By November, surely, the worst must have passed. We will see each other then. It'll be a family reunion. I want so badly to believe in this vision. I want her to be safe, and the rest of my family. But I know that none of us has the privilege to walk away entirely unscathed.
I am so scared. Who will we lose?
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