Just when will my bubble burst?

My heart aches for all of the families suffering losses due to the coronavirus.

How painful it must feel to be barred from seeing their loved ones in the hospital?

How excruciating it must be to be limited to brief FaceTime visits — especially at the doorstep of death?

I have not experienced any of this personally. No one in my inner circle of family and friends has contracted COVID-19 or, worse yet, ended up on a ventilator in intensive care unit clinging to life. For now, I live in a cocoon, spared from the unthinkable.

But for how long? The death toll in our country has now topped 100,000, with few signs of slowing down. Nevertheless, the nation is in a hurry to resurrect the battered economy by reopening businesses and bringing workers back. There is food to put on the table. There are families to raise and bills to pay.

That leaves us scant time to grieve – and grieve we must to honor those taken from us too soon.

And the mourning will come not only with sadness, but hard questions calling out to us from the grave:

Why did so many have to die?

Why was there such dismal planning for the pandemic?

Why did “stay–at–home” suddenly become “leave–our–homes” – perhaps prematurely?

Why were some so cavalier about sacrificing others’ lives to get the economy humming again? Profits over people?

When can we just grieve like in normal times?

When will my bubble burst?

© Ron Cooper 2020