The Days the World Stops

Every generation has a day. That single day everyone remembers when everything just stopped. Those days are tied to death, loss and shock. That makes sense when you think about it because when something good happens we don’t stop, we move faster and celebrate. There are limitless examples of world stopping days from before my time. Sometimes one person died, sometimes a few, sometimes many. Once even no one died but the potential for death was so big the world held its breath anyway. A few examples from before my time include: that day in November 1963, the dropping of the atomic bombs in 1945, the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger in 1986, and the attack on Pearl Harbor December 7, 1941. Of course there are thousands more but those jumped to the front of my mind without effort. Then during my life there are several I can think of easily as well. The most impactful world wide was the attack on September 11, 2001. Up to that point that was the most traumatic event I could imagine. In my lifetime all wars have been fought “over there” without the extreme loss of life that had been seen in past wars. (Before anyone gets offended: yes, I know we have been at war constantly; yes, I know many have lost their lives and I am not trying to minimize that sacrifice; I simply mean that wars now rely heavily on diplomacy, economics and threats resulting in less total lives lost as compare to say the world wars or Korea or Vietnam.) The shooting at Columbine in 1999, which now has been followed by countless other school shootings. The Oklahoma City bombing in 1995, a case of domestic terrorism, was shocking to watch on tv as a child. On a local scale, the ice storm in 1998 made most of the state of Maine shut down for weeks. I remember being upset when Bangor closed schools for a month and I only got a day or two in Caribou.
Now, for the first time in Seth’s life, the world has stopped again. This time on a massive scale with risk to everyone’s life in a way I have never seen before.  Some luckily healthy people will remember this time as an annoyance. A time when they couldn’t party, go shopping, and had to change vacation plans. Students will remember missing school, graduation, proms, their friends, and for some their safety and security. Grandparents will remember missing their families and not knowing if they will ever see them again. People like me with chronic illnesses or underlying conditions will remember being scared to go out for necessities and being afraid of crowds of people. We will remember having the security pulled away from us and being replaced by a daily fear of becoming even more sick then we are, especially as we face losing access to our medication. Service workers will remember feeling torn between feeling needed and valued, and feeling like they are being sacrificed to others needs. Healthcare providers will remember doing their jobs like the heros that they are while being undersupplied, under staffed, under appreciated, and worrying about their own safety and that of their families. Teachers will remember being asked to do the impossible, accomplishing it because they are incredibly amazing, and spending every moment of their day worrying about “their kids” because every teacher adopts “their kids.”
Seth will remember very little...because he is only two. But all we will let him remember is that Mommy and Daddy were home more. We played more, spent time outside more, cuddled more and were happy. I am sure this will continue for some time and that is all I want Seth to remember so one day when he is older and something happens to make the world stop, he will know how to get past it. He will remember to hold his family closer, to enjoy the time he has, and to be grateful for what is there instead of focusing on what is lost.