In times of crisis, we find comfort in our faith. At the onset of the COVID-19 outbreak in the New Orleans community, the faithful gathered together in prayer, invoking Our Lady of Prompt Succor to watch over the city just as she had during the Battle of New Orleans in 1815.
This is as it should be. Who else can we turn to when so much at the present moment is seemingly out of our control? Individually, we do what we can to “flatten the curve”: we follow CDC guidelines and recommendations; we practice social distancing and self-isolation. Beyond that, we must practice patience, flexibility and trust in our faith.
But it’s hard – particularly in these moments of isolation, when we are called to cut communal ties in the best interest of humanity. We’re social creatures. We depend so much upon our community and our relationships with others. These times will, indeed, be trying.
In these days, weeks and (probably) months ahead, we must remain optimistic. Even in isolation, we can still reach out to those around us. We can still connect; it just takes a bit more creativity.
Lately, I’ve found comfort in my twins. It’s hard to remain pessimistic and troubled when, as soon as I turn the corner or come back into view, two bubbly almost 8-month-olds break out into toothless grins. They either stretch out their arms or jump in their bouncers out of excitement. It’s comforting, in those moments, to hold them close – or get down on the ground and help them roll around, sit up and start to crawl.
In these aspects of everyday life, I find a sense of peace in the normalcy of their routine and in their development and growth.
But it’s not only my family that finds joy and pleasure in these moments. After sharing a photo of my boys on social media, friends and colleagues reached out, asking for more. Requests for videos came via text. Happiness, it seemed, was palpable in my household. Could that happiness be shared?
Of course, I oblige. I’ve begun posting a bit more frequently as the boys seem to be developing and learning new skills overnight. It’s a way to keep in touch with family and friends, but also to lift the mood.
As so many of us move into remote work, we find ourselves in silos, desperate to connect. But these technologies afford us great opportunities.
We don’t know what the future holds; some may not know when we’ll see members of our family again. But we do know what provides peace and comfort; we can all do our part in ensuring that those around us continue to feel supported, loved and cared for.
We find ourselves in a “brave new world” – but it doesn’t have to be the dystopic reality of Aldous Huxley; it can be Miranda’s world of amazement and surprise from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest.” It can be a world of ingenuity and creativity; a world of renewed connection, of hope, of faith.
We will survive the plague in our midst and when we do, the world will be changed. It’s what we make of that change that matters – not only for ourselves, but for our children.