“Are you out there, can you hear this?”
…I will write this down
And then I will not be alone again…”
(Are You Out There, Dar Williams)
I am alone in my kitchen, logged into an online conferencing site to join the memorial service for my best friend’s mom, Mrs. Miller, who passed away last week from complications from COVID-19. The virus had hit her memory care facility hard, so it wasn’t _that_ surprising when she contracted a fever, that the downhill slide would come quickly.
This is all so surreal, seeing her loved ones on my Chromebook screen. Her grown children doing their best to stay calm as so many relatives and friends desperately attempt to get their technology to work, allowing them to participate in the service. It’s 20 minutes past the start, and every new attendee logging in is sheepishly saying, “I’m here. Can you hear me?”
We’ve been isolated since early March when this deadly virus spread over the world. Keeping journals, taking photos, “Zooming” with friends has been our lifelines, allowing us to process, to stay connected when we cannot gather together in person. And so here we are today, sharing screens and sharing memories.
Sixteen years ago, when her husband died, Mrs. Miller, decided that everyone and everything was too sad. So she went out and got a dog. And named it Levity.
May we, even in despair, like my friend did–fill our lives with art, nature, family, connection, and, of course, levity.
(Title and lyrics used without permission by Dar Williams. I hope she doesn’t mind.)