Dear Friends and Family,
From the time our daughter was three years old, I’ve told her I have three jobs:
To make sure she is healthy;
To make sure she is safe; and
To make sure she is loved.
The most important job is to make sure she’s loved.
I’m not sure where this idea came from, but it’s what I said every time I had to tell her no. No, you can't have that candy; it isn’t healthy. No, you can't climb on that balcony; it isn’t safe. No, I’m not going to go away even when you yell at me, because I love you.
It became our mantra—healthy, safe, and loved, most important, loved.
Because of the Coronavirus, our daughter—age 20—is back at home. Once again, we live by the mantra to we keep each other healthy, safe and loved—washing hands, wearing masks, eating together, sharing thoughts—but these days it includes more than our little family of three. It includes my brother who is living with us throughout the crisis. It includes our neighbors who, every day at 5:30, go out on the front porch or doorstep to shout greetings and check in on each other. It includes our community reaching out, offering support, and sharing resources.
We are the lucky ones.
But I can’t help thinking about those who aren’t as lucky. Like children (and college students) who were healthy, safe, and (hopefully) loved at school, but not so much outside of school. Or those in jail, prison, or detention camps—both the detained and the employed. Or those without jobs, homes, and documents. Or our doctors, nurses and EMTs? Who’s making sure they are healthy, safe, and loved?
We all deserve to have these basic needs met—especially our most vulnerable. But how do we do that in the time of Corona? I don’t know and I’m looking for ways to help.
But, in the meantime, I hope all of you are healthy, safe, and loved, most important, loved.