Last week the number of deaths from Covid-19 surpassed 200,000. Experts predict that this number could double by the end of the year. Had we known these numbers in the spring we would have been staggered. But now, more than six months into the Caronivirus pandemic, we have become numb. Most of us read the reports as statistics, a way of keeping score. Some have even concluded that the number of deaths is “acceptable,” a relatively small percentage of our population, even though it is equivalent to 1,000 airline crashes with 200 fatalities each in the span of 7 months. But for those 200,000 families and their friends, it is personal. Each has a story. Each feels the loss.
It’s time to sing your song again.
Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me,
May I be singing when the evening comes.
And on that day, when my strength is failing,
The end draws near and my time has come,
Still my soul will sing your praise unending,
Ten thousand years and then forever more.”