For the last weeks, I've been caught up in the COVID-19 hype, capitalizing on every opportunity to make a joke or to put in my witty two cents. I've taken the precautions seriously and followed the guidance, but my prevailing mood was one of novelty and amusement. I'm not a child, and I realized that this is a serious situation, but, as a friend of mine wrote about this phenomenon, "The Titanic is sinking and yet the band plays on." The gravity of the pandemic had not sunk in.
But now it is beginning to. I personally have had no symptoms thus far, and I'm young enough to convince myself that I'm invincible - and no family members have reported any serious cases yet (Ka"h), but as I'm looking at the names for tehillim and getting texts from friends, this mageifa is becoming surreal. It's just days into the outbreak in my hometown of Lakewood and more and more people I know are now in critical condition. This person's father died, that person is on a respirator, and a third was just incubated. As I scroll down the list of names, more and more name are familiar. Some I know better and some I know less, but they are all in mortal danger, gasping for breath, because of this virus.
Until now, the concept of a mageifa that can sweep through a community and leave behind unmitigated destruction was an aloof concept. It was from ancient history, from the days of horse and buggies, from the era of bloodletting and pogroms. But as time progresses, my outlook has changed. The volatility of life has become tangible.
This doesn't come to say that I may not venture back onto those lighter threads to read a meme or share my quips. But I do so now with a heavier heart and a more somber attitude.
