My daughter called yesterday.

She was stopping by to drop something off for me.

“I’ll meet you outside,” I told her.

I stood masked on the driveway edge, and watched her pull up, mask up and walk toward me.

I only let her come so close before I began backing away.

Even now I find it hard to fight back the tears when I think about it.

This is my youngest adult-woman-child.

The one who sat on my lap the longest.

The one who shopped with me.

The one who ate hot fudge brownie sundaes with me at midnight.

The one who gave me the least amount of stress.

The one who drove 3 hours every week-end when I moved just to be with me.

The one I call Sweet Melissa and, she still is and always has been.

That one.

I could only see her beautiful denim-blue eyes but they spoke to me.

She wanted to run into my arms…..the arms that have comforted her over the years and oh so bad I wanted to hold her.

But, I’ve become afraid of my sweet child.

Since March, I’ve hugged her once.

My family is a family of hugs, lots and lots of hugs…..hello hugs, good-bye hugs, happy and sad hugs.

We’re all huggers but…..not anymore.

We live ten minutes apart.

Rarely a day went by when I didn’t see her if only for a few minutes and…..a hug.

She made a point of spending one afternoon a week with me.

We had lunch, sat on the recliners and gabbed like we hadn’t seen each other in months.

Now?

She hasn’t been inside our home for eight months.

When we weren’t battling first three weeks of triple digit heat, then three weeks of California fires smoke, she’d stop by.

We’d sit far from each other in the backyard and try to make it feel OK but, it wasn’t.

I wanted to touch her and I couldn’t.

I wanted to laugh with her like we always did but seems nothing was funny.

Yesterday standing on the driveway talking to her through masks, I felt a new distance.

There wasn’t a lot to say.

I asked about her and my awesome son-in-law, her dogs, and her jewelry business.

What could I tell her about us?

We’re scared, we’re hiding, we’re doin’ the best we can and…..we’re lonely.

It’s not comfortable any more.

It’s put a distance between her and me and it’s heart-breaking.

If only there was a countdown going on…..50 more days til it’s over, 75, even a hundred….just an ending SOMEWHERE.

Something we could grab on to.

But, nothing has changed.

The invisible monster lurks everywhere, striking down and killing.

Some have decided to ignore it and pretend like it’s life as usual, but it’s not.

It’s a gamble and there’s a price to pay if they lose.

Because of them, some who didn’t gamble, will still lose.

It’s a price we’re not willing to pay and so we live like hermits…..waiting.

The scientists and medical people tell us it’s gonna get worse before it gets better.

Is there a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel anywhere?

Anything, just ANYTHING positive to grab on to?

We’re told a vaccine is near.

That’s something…..I guess.

It’s a start, a new beginning.

Until then we can hope, dream and believe.

And that day WILL come.

That day we open our doors and our ARMS and the first place I’m headed is 10 minutes in each direction.

I’ve got a couple daughters to squish.

I’ve got huge hugs for them and they have some for me.