Happy World Down Syndrome Day! It’s been a good day in our family, all things considered.
Joy is singing and dancing. She still loves Stayin’ Alive.
Deb and I and the girls sing:
“And we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive…”
Then Joy sings her line: “Ah, ah, ah, ah…”
Then we sing: “Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.”
Joy: “Ah, ah, ah, ah…”
Everyone else: “Stayin’ alive!”
And the smile on Joy’s face is priceless. We all clap.
Joy is so loving. She gives kisses to everyone. Over and over.
I have an Airbnb on Main Street in St. Charles. I went up to my Airbnb apartment this afternoon to clean and drop off new towels. By the way, I don’t have any guests right now. And no guests in April, either. As far as I know, there is no bailout coming for Airbnb hosts. (But I’m offering the place at half price if you know someone who wants to self-isolate away from home for a while.)
Anyway, on the way to my Airbnb I stopped at Dollar General in St. Charles to get milk and Clorox wipes and graham crackers. There was an EMS vehicle in the parking lot, but I didn’t think anything about it. EMS is often called for fender benders, heart attacks, dog bites, falls of older adults, cuts, et cetera.
I walked into the store, picked up a basket, and turned to the left. A DG employee was in my way. She was sitting on a desk chair surrounded by EMS personnel. I heard the woman say, “I’m having trouble breathing.” That’s all I heard. I placed the basket on the floor, turned around, opened the exit door with my elbow, and I ran for my car. I was thinking, I cannot get this virus. I cannot give COVID-19 to Joy or Deb or the girls.
I know it feels like the zombie apocalypse is coming, but in my mind it’s more like War of the Worlds. Tiny viruses, so incredibly tiny that we need powerful microscopes to see them, have spread all over the world. Unlike the movie, these tiny entities are not going to kill invading Martians or evil aliens. In fact, only humans (older adults mostly) are vulnerable to the effects of the virus itself; and, yes, the coronavirus kills good people as well as bad people.
But the virus is testing our character—our character as humans, as leaders, as Americans. During this crisis, if we are smart and vigilant and helpful and compassionate and empathetic and honest, we will stop the spread of this virus and soon we can reopen our schools and restaurants and airports. If we pull together now, we will be stronger as a society when this is all over.
Like War of the Worlds, though, the virus will bring down those who underestimate the power of tiny things. It will bring low those who don’t understand exponential growth. It will destroy those who believe we can ignore it and it will go away in the spring. It will wreak havoc if one person has 70,000 containers of hand sanitizer while my neighbor Melvin has none. It will kill health care workers who can’t get new masks and other PPE. It will absolutely not go away by giving the airlines $60 billion while laid-off waitresses get zero. (By the way, if all the airlines go bankrupt, new ones will emerge when the customers come back. It’s supply and demand.)
And speaking of the power of tiny things: When tiny Joy says (in her own way), “Daddy, pick me up!” Daddy says, “How high?” And her smile gets wider the higher she goes.