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Finish Line

I have fallen into a morbid routine of checking in on my parents twice a day and bracing myself for news that despite their efforts to stay safe, they are impacted by the fire that is raging in India. More and more of their neighbors are getting sick every day and this is a community of senior citizens with a smattering of younger folks. One family has been self-isolating for two weeks and no one knows how they are faring behind closed doors. 

People feel awkward about calling when their ability to help is non-existent. Checking on my other relatives feels much the same way - I am not sure anyone wants it at this time. With friends it is a bit easier but I am filled with dread when they don't reply. In one instance, this person had had a freak accident and burnt herself while making chai in the kitchen. That put her out of commission for a couple of days and I had activated our full network to track her down. On day three she called and told me what had happened and told me to stop freaking out. 

My friend L's mother died leaving behind a desolate husband of sixty some years. The old man is dazed by the events of the world now confounded by being left alone to figure out what it all means. Should he stay and wait but for what and if not then where is he meant to go and why. These would have been hard questions in the best of times for a widower his age with children living in far flung countries but now they are all but impossible to answer. No one has a plan for him, they watch helplessly as he shuffles around a shadow of his former self, waiting like the rest of us but feeling a lot closer to the finish line. 

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