In a way, you’re the lucky one. You're not around to see this.  

The world – or at least our little piece of it – has devolved into an ongoing missive of anger and insults thrown back and forth.  Even those who are fighting for the rights of others are unable to have even the smallest of civil discourse about how to make it better.  An upcoming election will basically be a major cog in the while of whether this country descends into fascism and benefits for only the most wealthy among us or whether government truly is of the people, for the people. It’s the most hotly-debated and important one in my lifetime and I still don’t know how it will turn out.  A global pandemic has shut down much of our normal every day activities, your sisters are attending virtual school, I work from home 99% of the time, your father works outside the home and I worry about that every day, we don’t go out much.  Your sister tested positive for the virus and then we quarantined - even more than usual – and didn’t see or come into contact with another human in real life for a month.  (So far she, and all the rest of us, are fine, by the way.)

I'm focusing on the fact that we are all together. We have a modest home, but one that I really enjoy just physically being in. We have a menagerie of animals that help us enjoy our time here. And maybe most importantly, I love my family and don't mind spending this much time with them.  It's sometimes stressful, but it's also made us closer. And it's also hard to be positive some days.

And yet...  I still have hope. In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.

If it’s good enough for Anne Frank, I guess it’s good enough for me.

I miss you.