To the wise ones we lost, who slipped away quietly as the oxygen dipped, breath falling shallow. We remember you.
To the little ones, those who we thought were the safest, whose health was broken by young immune systems only fighting to protect them. We remember you.
To the health care providers who now can’t unsee and struggle to unfeel the fear, the unknown, the death and darkness of those early months, and now bear the exhaustion that follows. We remember you.
To those who feared every moment, not knowing who or what to trust, voices calling from every direction, saying, “Follow me, this is the way.” We remember you.
To those whose dreams shattered, irrecoverable, with no corporate grief available to be a salve for their souls. We remember you.
To the plans, and the trips, and the slumber parties, and the prom nights that were ripped away from children and young adults, who just wanted to live out milestones and rites of passage, but were denied these. We remember you.
To those who remain, we are still here. Still. Here. Not everything has been lost. Hope remains. Memories remain. Love persists. And grace carries it all.
May grace and love and hope be felt by all who have endured the weight of this pandemic, and may we seek to hold each other up, and never dismiss the pain of others.
Everything belongs. Selah.