It’s odd, perhaps, to write of goodbyes when our coronavirus house arrest means we experience so few hellos. Yet it’s the absence of in-the-flesh hellos that makes goodbyes harder to experience without flinching.
In lockdown, we get loads of greetings via video chat. They’re courteous and necessary, as greetings go. But without the touch of a handshake or a moment where eyes connect even briefly, they’re like cold soup or warm soda – filling and unfulfilling.
Video chats deliver only faded interactions, like viewing a flower in darkness. Even when we’re looking at a single square while speaking words intended solely for the person shimmering there in pixels, the camera cheats us of the fleeting eye-to-eye connection we crave.
I suspect the absence of physical connection will test the first people who travel to Mars far more than will the technical challenges. Lesson learned from pandemic isolation: Don’t volunteer for Mars.
In-the-flesh goodbyes benefit, by contrast. But they’re no easier. Starved as we are, parting from those inside our isolation bubble now means our goodbye hugs are longer, tighter – and sadder.
