Do you see that light? It’s floating there, just at the end of our outreached fingers, beckoning us to approach.
With every day, we inch closer to the end of this tunnel, steeling ourselves for what the world will be when we breach the exit, yet more than ready to bask in the warmth of the other side.
We’re all exhausted of the uncertainty, the restrictions, and the societal cracks the pandemic has created these past two years. Soon – so very soon – we will embrace our neighbours and hopefully, with internal temperatures dropping, we’ll renew our acquaintances, accept the differences of our opinions and beliefs, and heal each other, our superhuman small businesses owners, and our communities.
The past two years have been like none since the Second World War, a time only the eldest of our family members experienced, and a time of fear and uncertainty we certainly cannot comprehend. The pandemic has brought out the best of us and, at times, dropped us to our knees. Yet amongst the bad, there has been much good. We’ve selflessly protected our most vulnerable, learned to teach, rediscovered family game night, perfected sourdough bread recipes, acquired a new skill, and breathed in nature in ways most hadn’t in years.
We’ve moved our offices home, and become part-time educators every few months. We’ve dealt with the bedtime heartaches of children who both do and don’t understand what unprecedented times they’re surviving. We’ve dealt with loss – either of someone we love or a part of ourselves. We’ve become increasingly reliant on screens, both us and our children, once the lustre wore off those aforementioned game nights and new hobbies. Yet we’ve persevered.
The pandemic is the Kennedy assassination-moon landing-Henderson goal-9/11 for our children. It’s up to each of us what we – as a society – take from this shared experience, and how we learn from the challenges we’ve overcome to make our friendships, our family relationships, and our communities stronger for what we’ve overcome and how we’re moving forward – marching, heads held high, to the finish line.