From a 50-Something-Year-Old Woman Working at Home in her Slippers
When this is over, I promise to hug my family and my friends for a moment too long.
When this is over, I promise to understand the difference between need and want more clearly.
When this is over, I promise not to miss a chance to hold the hand of the one I love, and just hold their hand…not wondering if they skipped a verse of Happy Birthday while they were washing.
When this is over, I promise to watch less Netflix and never to take for granted the experience of seeing a movie on a screen taller than my house, with the incredible sound system imaginable, with a bucket of movie theater popcorn. And I promise to clap at the end.
When this is over, I promise to see a live play or a concert and to feel the energy of a live performance deeply.
When this is over, I promise to let myself weep openly, tears of inexplicable joy, the first time I hear the roar of the crowd in a sports stadium.
When this is over, I promise to work as hard for my company as I am when I am trying to save it, while never taking my job for granted.
When this is over, I promise not to skip class because I don’t feel like going.
When this is over, I promise never to take for granted the shaking of a stranger’s hand and to know who my neighbors are, so they are not strangers. And I will speak to them and ask if they are OK. Maybe I will roll their trash bins to the curb and know their dog’s name too.
When this is over, I promise never to miss the moment at a restaurant when the server brings the meal, and it looks fantastic. I promise to be thankful for that service, for me and them.
I will also not take for granted the first time I can once again taste my best friend’s dish at a restaurant by merely reaching my fork across the table, one that we are seated at together.
When this is over, I promise not to grumble when the alarm goes off, telling me to go to the gym. Well, maybe I will grumble, but when the group exercise instructor asks the class if we are having fun, I promise to whoop loudly as I am so happy to be there with all of you.
When this is over, I promise never to feel entitled to walk into an emergency room or clinic and feel like I am the one most in need of care – especially because it might actually be the staff who have been caring for others all day and into the night, and will do it again tomorrow.
When this is over, I promise never to feel inconvenienced by the invitation to a wedding, baby shower, graduation or funeral.
When this is over, I promise never to complain about the legroom on a plane or to be annoyed the internet is not working. I promise to remember I am flying 30,000 feet in the air in a tube with wings going 500 miles an hour, and I will be amazed by that.
When this is over, I will remember that I am neither a Democrat nor a Republican. I am an American and a citizen of planet Earth.
When this is over, I promise to keep praying as consistently as I am now, thanking God for my health and realizing there are so many others with burdens and hardships far more significant than my own.
When this is over, I promise to sing songs of worship at my place of worship at the top of my lungs. My voice is terrible, but I promise to remember God doesn’t care.
I promise not to wait until this over. Some things I can start now before this is over.
Today I promise to have hope, for it is the only rational choice.
Love Roars Back,
Colleen Affeldt
