A High-Level Perspective
A High-Level Perspective
Is COVID-19 (novel coronavirus) a hoax? Well, it depends, apparently, on…wait for it…not science, not facts, not critical thinking, but instead which polarized (and patently full of untruths) end of politics you’ve put your faith and trust in.
We’ve lost our minds in this country. You can fact check everything now (including the president) using the brain God gave you and the common sense that all of us should have, but seems to be in extreme short supply anymore, to discern between what’s true and what’s false from an objective, rational, and logical point of view.
But it appears that some people have been sucked into the vortex of ignorance and extremism that seems to be its own kind of pandemic, not only in America, but throughout the world.
Life as we knew it has been upended by COVID-19. As I’ve thought and pondered a lot on the changes we see and the potential changes ahead, I see that there could be some very good results that come from this, as well as some very bad ones.
I scan the news headlines a couple of times a day, and then I leave it alone. A steady diet of all the confusion, the outright wrong information (often from the government), and all the unknowns (and there are a lot) about COVID-19 can result in feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed. I don’t want that for myself.
“This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.”
“The Hollow Men” – T. S. Eliot
My fraternal twin sister, Deb, died of complications from liver failure at 7:49 a.m. EST on February 29, 2020. I am heartbroken writing this.
T.S. Eliot is one of my favorite poets, and although I love the depth of “The Wasteland” and the profundity of “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” “The Hollow Men” has always been my favorite. The last two lines always run through my mind when someone I know dies, as does Ecclesiastes 9:5-6 – “For the living know that they will die; but the dead know nothing, and they have no more reward, for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, their hatred, and their envy have now perished; nevermore will they have a share In anything done under the sun.” Continue reading
My dearest Mama,
It’s hard to believe you’ve been gone almost seven years. At once, it feels like yesterday and forever. I miss you as much now as I missed you the second God took your breath away as you hit the number of days He had written for you in His book before you were ever born.
The world was crazy and falling apart when you left. If you can imagine, it’s crazier and crumbling apart even more now.
We’re all worse for the wear, but that’s to be expected, and people you loved and cherished have, like you, gone to sleep to await the resurrection in the years since you’ve been gone.
Today – or yesterday – since the dates on each of your birth certificates (the handwritten one and the official one) are different, you would be 90 years old. That’s hard for me to even fathom, almost as hard as it is for me to fathom that in August you’ll be gone seven years.
Thinking of you being 90 reminds me of how you and Daddy used to joke about life and death. Daddy’d always say that he wanted to live to be 100, and you always told him that he’d see that birthday without you because you didn’t want to live that long. Continue reading
Mama loved music. She probably had the widest range of taste in music of anybody I’ve ever known. From the Appalachian bluegrass of her childhood to the big band/swing music of her teens to jazz to classical music (we both loved violins, so Vivaldi was a shared favorite) to the music we kids listened to growing up (which Daddy called noise, for the most part), to all the grunge and indie and alternative music I introduced to her, it was a rare time when she said, “I don’t like that.” Continue reading