Grief in the time of Corona
You are gone, my friend.
A hundred thousand deaths in the US alone and my heart breaks only for you.
You see I knew you.
I knew your face. Your winsome face, open like a book — that closed when I gave you needless pain.
I knew your eyes — warm, Deep. Clear as the eyes of a child, innocent of the ways of the world.
When we grew older, your eyes changed.
No, not the holy light of innocence that shone in them.
I mean the way the lines radiated from the corners of your eyes, like stories wanting to be told. Stories held back out of respect for my new separateness.
Your kindness stayed.
Your resolve to be there for me, in good times and bad, stayed.
You knew about laughter. Its power to heal.
Your laughter was abundant. It rose from your belly and exploded into the universe like a celebration. Like the ringing of bells.
You were resilient.
You had the resilience of an orphan child. The resilience of a solid Oak. Your resilience grew over the years. You were a tree set against a mountain, absorbing the detachment of mountains. with serenity.
Happiness was your nature.
Resilience was your talent.
Love was your strength.
I grieve for you. A hundred thousand deaths in US alone. But I grieve for you. It is not that they meant little. Those one hundred thousand faces. It is that you meant so much. To me.