Dear Covid-19

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Micaela Gaither, Series Editor

Dear Covid-19,

I’m going to tell you a story. A story of how the world changed overnight, in a way society will never fully recover from. I used to wake up each morning, at 6 am and groan at the idea of going to school. Now each day I awake and long for the early mornings in the cold hallways of Forest Grove High School. 

We as a generation begged for later days and less homework, we got one of those things, but we are still ungrateful. Now we want to go back to our early mornings and long school days. Some would say we are ungrateful and spoiled, that we seem entitled. I would say we were kids. 

Our seniors. Our class of 2020. Their high school experience was cut short. They lost their graduation. Their senior prom. Their last goodbye. They worked 13 years to reach this goal. To walk. In the end, they will never get that experience. 

The senior citizens of the world. Those with lower immune systems. Those with newborns. Those sick. They are all at risk. At the risk of dying. Of never being the same. They’ve been locked away and forgotten, they are forbidden from seeing the outside world. No visitors, no shopping, no nothing. If they do, if they risk it, they chance it being their last act or that of a loved one. 

We are all trapped within our homes, peering through bars, wondering we will be free. Some continue to work. Our nurses, our doctors, our grocery clerks, our teachers. They continue to work and fight through this virus, fighting against you. 

Our nurses and doctors are separated from their families, fighting on the front lines, risking illness. 

No one ever expected you to come, we weren’t ready. There was no emergency plan in place. You aren’t like an earthquake, where we can hide under a desk. You would find us there, too, that’s why students can’t go to school. Why restaurants are closed. Why nonessential workplaces have closed their doors for now, or for some forever. 

It’s said in times of stress we will unite as a community, but it seems it’s hard to unite when we can’t even see our neighbors. When six feet is too close for comfort. 

I try to keep positive, but it seems harder and harder when the world is closed with no answer when the doors will open. The little things, seeing my family smile and laugh, makes every day trapped a little easier.

 I wouldn’t think something as little as a virus, as you, would have the ability to take away so much. We lost our right to freedom. Liberty to all as long as you are inside. 

However, you are just a virus, and viruses can be eradicated with vaccines. Our doctors and nurses all over the world work to create a cure. Once it’s made, it’s only a matter of time before we can say our goodbyes. 

You treated us terribly, so I have to be honest it won’t pain me to see you go, but I will thank you for the lesson you taught. 

You reminded me, the world, to appreciate every little thing about our daily lives. When students complain about early mornings, they will remember what it was like when we lost school. When customers complain about customer service, they will remember who kept working despite a pandemic. Our doctors and nurses will always be heroes. You reminded us that what we thought were annoyances were luxuries. 

When you leave, I hope you don’t come back, because even with you gone, I know you will always leave a trace. The world will never go back to normal, it will be a new normal. It’ll be a frighteningly new world. Hopefully one without you. 



Worst of wishes,

Micaela Gaither