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Dear Friday,

I turn on my computer to see there has been another mass shooting in the States.

I turn on the TV and see a news special about all the people falling into poverty because of lost jobs during the pandemic.

I hear about health systems in Brazil collapsing and the young not being spared.

Was life always like this? Were we just protected by youth, as I protect my children so that their worlds are insects and dance parties and pen pals?

I am dizzy with all of it. I find I don't look up much anymore. If it's not art, it's bug exploring, reading. I keep going down deeper within, hoping that when I look back up I will see real faces again.

Or is this what life always was? Is this grown up life?

My mother had the Vietnam war. My grandfather WW2.

Syrians are still at war. Ethopia is falling apart. Malaria is becoming resistant to drugs.

And yet....

Even if this is what life always was I am happy to be an adult and bare witness.

I am in awe of the health care workers around the world on the front lines of this pandemic.

Sunsets are so much sweeter.

Stillness has become medicine.

And there's always a beautiful glass of wine waiting.


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