There is so much I will always remember long after COVID-19 has become a finished chapter of our history.
I will remember the feeling of the world being turned upside down in 48 hours, knowing it was shifting under my feet and wondering if I would still be standing when it was over.
I will remember staring at a swaying bookcase as the earth rumbled in Salt Lake City and the way my breath caught in my throat and the way I wrote work emails through aftershocks and wondered if things could possibly get any more surreal.
I will remember daily video calls with work and with family—trying to stay connected, just like everybody else.
I will remember the simple joy of receiving an order of brown sugar which meant that I could bake again, after finding many baking ingredients difficult to come by.
I will remember sitting at my piano for hours, distracting myself with music, and sending imperfect-but-the-best-I-could-do recordings of my playing to my family in an attempt to cheer them.
I will remember artist after artist sharing more selflessly, more generously, and more frequently, and how powerfully I could feel their urgency to bring more beauty into the world.
I will remember so many people trying to be a little kinder and little more compassionate.
I will remember sewing masks and breaking down crying because it was all a little too real.
I will remember an Easter in isolation, making cinnamon rolls as if the world was not in chaos, and doing my best to make the day special.
I will remember standing on my tiptoes, straining to see out of the spyhole in my front door to catch fish-eyed glimpses of my mom when she would drop by to leave items on my doorstep.
I will remember the triumph we shared when this was behind us, knowing we got through it together.
I will remember the loss of knowing how impossible it was for things to be the same as they were before.
I will remember wondering if I would remember the way things were before.
I will remember the joy of hugging my family again.
I will remember the pain of knowing how many lives were stolen by this invisible enemy.
I will remember the fear—every day, the fear that would tighten my chest and make my heart pound, as if it was trying to say, “Hey, I’m still here.”
More than anything, I hope I will remember the deep and overwhelming gratitude I felt every single day to be alive and well.
So well written.
This is a time no one who lived through it will ever forget. I will remember yearning to be with my daughter, but wanted her to be safe therefore keeping my distance. I will remember the panicy feeling when I looked at nearly bare grocery store shelves and wondering if I was unwise to leave food on the shelves hoping that it wouldn’t be left completely bare for others. When the ground shook I will remember wondering if this was the time the Savior was coming…because how could it get worse?
I will remember emotions and thoughts running like roller coasters:
Is this really necessary?
Will there be jobs and an economy in the aftermath is the cure worse than the virus?
Will this lead to war?
But I will also remember the comfort that came with knowing we had a living prophet. That the Savior was aware of me and loved me. That family was so much more important and prominent than a pre pandemic society would have us believe.