For the Lack of a Protective Mask
Recently I heard of a young man who caught the Corona Virus. He was young. He was strong. He felt invincible. When he got the virus, he did not know what hit him. Not him! He was healthy, he was young, and he was strong person! The elderly were in danger of having this virus, not the young! He felt as if he was caught in something that he did not relate with. Every jagged breath he drew, was a painful effort. It carved a raw path down his breathing passage and into his lungs, turning his innards into a raw, infested, bloody and throbbing cavity. There was no reprieve from the pain, not for one single second. How he longed for a minute of respite, how he longed for a night of deep restful sleep, as he painfully wheezed for every agonizing gulp of air.
He had hopes and dreams for his life. He wanted to become successful, enjoy his life and eventually have a happy, loving family of his own. Throughout those long three months in the hospital he suffered and struggled to regain his health back again. That is what he desperately yearned for. He wanted to be well and healthy once more. If he got well, he would do everything right. He felt alone and so very scared. He needed to have his family and friends by his side. But that was not to be. Sometimes they were allowed to stand outside his window. How he yearned for the gentle caress of his mother’s hand. How he yearned to hear their loving voices reassuring him that all would be well. But that could not happen. Each day he became weaker and weaker. Eventually he lost this agonizing battle. He died. They placed an identification tag upon him. They placed his corpse in a body bag and rolled him to the refrigerated truck waiting outside the hospital for the myriad dead bodies dying each day. His family was notified of the culmination of his young, barely lived life. The wretched family wailed and keened with grief and despair. They begged to be told that this was not true that their son had not died. They wished they could bring bring him back, even if for a brief while, just to tell him how very much they loved him and cherished him. But death is a one way street. Once one dies there is no turning back. No, death is final.
The cemeteries were overwhelmed. Too many people had died, there were too many bodies to bury and not enough undertakers to bury them. The cemeteries held macabre scenes reminiscent of some of the dark tales of Charles Dickens, perhaps David Copperfield or Oliver Twist. The undertakers and those who overlooked them were covered from head to foot in protective gear to ward off this horrific curse that was plaguing the world. The bodies were piled high. The undertakers toiled long and hard hours. It was over a week before this young man was buried. As if this was not injury enough, his family members were not allowed to attend the funeral. Once more the family wailed with grief at the needless death of their beloved child. That vibrant young man now lay in a cold lonely grave with no one that loved him to witness his demise, nor even his burial. For what reason, for what? All because of a lack of a mask! How senseless! How futile! How terribly tragic! How devastating! “God! God! Please, why? Why?” They sobbed. There was no answer for them, no comforting words. There never is.
You creatures who feels such invincibility, you who refuse to protect yourselves and others, is that how you want to die? Is that how you want your loved ones to die? Do you want them or you to feel the searing pain of such loss? Can you comprehend such pain? Can you comprehend, such devastation?
It is so much safer and kinder to wear a mask. Masks have become quite a fashion statement these days. As we drove to my doctor’s appointment today, I noticed people wearing some quite attractive ones. On Facebook they are now advertising some as well, both for men and for women.
Please, please, please, wear your face masks, both for your sakes and for the sake of others. Please protect yourselves. Life is so precious, and what a needless and devastating way to die…