When do you think the really good things will start happening again? This year has gutted me like everyone else. I feel greedy for the gifts of the past, the enormity of which we never fully appreciated. I need to go to a concert and feel the music reverberate in my bones, pick warm strawberries from the vine, hug my friends with abandon, run breathlessly up the stairs to my grandparents’ kitchen, crowd into a steaming restaurant on a cold night, dance at a wedding until I’m sweaty, squeeze my nephew’s cheeks, walk through a museum so slowly my back starts to ache, eat an ice cream cone while wondering the streets, have at least one day without wondering when things will get better.

(Nov. 3)