The pandemic’s cost can scarcely be measured. How to calculate the value of 2.7 million lives taken globally? Of lost jobs and bankrupt businesses? Of schooling interrupted and delayed?
The smaller aches of our forfeited human interactions seem comparatively trivial.
But are they?
We’ve missed celebrations, holiday gatherings, milestone observances, visits with grandkids, neighborhood barbecues, church potlucks, bar nights, concerts, ballgames.
And hugs. Simply hugs.
Take just one hug, one you lost to the pandemic. Now multiply it by the billions. The result is the cumulative cost of lost human contact. The sum defies comprehension.
I addressed this loss in an essay published March 20, 2020 – one year ago yesterday – just as “social distancing” was etching into our lives.
“Welcome to solitary confinement,” I wrote. “Pandemic brought this punishment. Our social nature will amplify it.
“Damn. Damn. Damn.
“Hold tight, friends. And believe. Hugs will return.”
Those words expressed more confidence than I felt. But now, a year later? We’re smarter about the virus and jabbing our arms to safety.
So, my friends. Believe. Really believe.
Hugs have almost returned.
