The Overgrowth of Time

When this pandemic ends and history grows around its ruins, countless sacrifices will be lost to time.

That is how the world works.

But some of these tolls are going unrecorded even now.

The seniors of today, our matrons and patrons, all the Viet Nam vets and the great spinster aunts, have lost a year to this virus.

While quarantining (i.e. saving their lives and a host of others), they’ve lost a year of lunches with old friends.

A year of coffees amongst time-worn buddies.

A year of church going.

A year of shopping.

A year of neighborhood barbecues.

A year of hugs with their grandkids.

These losses will be overgrown by time, but they will never be forgotten by them.

Or me.

Or you, right?

Until tomorrow…

Chloe