A Remembered Lesson

Years ago, I read a story about how a man, a young dad at the time, found out his dad dropped dead of a heart attack at 63. He took his young son, maybe six or seven at the time, and tried explaining why he couldn’t see his grandpa anymore.

“But why?”

As hard as he could, the father tried to explain it, but the boy still kept on coming back to the same two words. He finally came up with an explanation that soothed the boy’s grief and understanding — “You’re here and then you’re not.”

As the events and circumstances of the last month have changed our year, our routines and outlook towards the present and future and what it might look like when this pandemic is over, those words I read 20–25 years ago came to the surface.

“You’re here and then you’re not.”

The essence of life, boiled down to six words. Eight if you are a purist. This plague will consume the planet even more than it has in the first four months. It will hit the rich, poor, strong and weak. It doesn’t care if your Prince Charles or a one-month old baby. It doesn’t care if you’re 20 or 80. Gay or straight, have a strong immune system or a compromised one.

COVID-19 is an insidious monster. In one month, the United States has gone from zero to over 1,000 deaths. You can’t estimate anything at this point. One-hundred-thousand, half-million, a million, more? Some say 3–5 million might die in the next 18 months. Who knows?