By Eileen Biehl

Greetings to each of you out there who have had too much time to think in these past few weeks. Have you come to any new insights? Are you wiser, kinder or smarter after all these weeks of thinking?

Nope, me either.

But, after too many weeks of thinking the same things, I am beginning to see a crack where some light is peaking in. My fatigue of constant news updates, worry, anxiety, obsessive sanitation and isolation is easing – mainly because I’m moving a little past fear into a different reality. And I do mean just a little past fear. But it’s enough. Kind of like cracking a knuckle. A snap, a release, a tiny reset.

I’d like to share that it was a meaningful ZOOM conversation that moved me, a card that arrived in the mail, a poem that I read, a Facebook post, or something someone in my household did for me. It was all of that and none of that in particular.

Slowly, tentatively, I find myself inching to new questions and new possibilities. Life after the pandemic is going to be a challenge; however, I’m getting ready to think about that and accept some changes as a new reality. I do feel that there will be some things that I’ll never stop missing and other things that I can adjust to and acclimate myself towards. I cannot say exactly what those things are. But, just this much movement in my thinking feels like a good stretch.

I miss my kids, my grandkids, my whole huge extended family, my friends, my coffee people, my workout buddies, my co-workers – and I’m pretty sure that I will reconnect with them eventually. The imagining of those reunions makes me smile and a little weepy.

I try to imagine traveling again, going to a graduation or a wedding reception, being at a baseball game, and I have to pause. I see it happening but it might look different. I believe we will get to be together again. All is not lost to us. But change is going to happen. And I’m praying for the grace to appreciate it all.

The grief, the sadness, the inequities of COVID 19 should affect us all forever. I want everyone to share in the collective unfairness of coronavirus and its devastation. But, I also want us to reclaim some hope. Even if it’s a tiny ounce. When we are in survival mode, we aren’t usually thinking about hope. But, it is there. It is present. Hope endures and lets us tap into it as we keep moving forward. Tomorrow I might not feel this hope, but, for today, I welcome it and I appreciate the respite.

About the Author

Eileen Biehl is an Associate of the Congregation of St. Joseph and also works as the editor of the magazine, ImagineONE. She loves her family, good coffee, and Pilates. She’d like to love writing for fun, but she’s not quite there yet.