The Window of Longing - 4. An open letter to my Mother, A nurse during the Pandemic

Dear Mother,

Every day you come home battered and exhausted. I can no longer tell how you feel from you expressions alone. The redness in your eyes becomes the red of your hands. Tainted you'll say by the blood of those we couldn't save, those we exhausted all options for, those you still felt needed a chance to live.

In my eyes an avid battle plays out, you and your team work tirelessly against the laws of fate, destiny and God. At times, it is easy to forget that you are human. The world leans on those with your profession, pillars of strength solitude, keepers of life and death.

I worry about you at times, your mental and emotional state. While the world goes to bed, do you lie awake and think of what you could have done differently? What you could have done better? I'll never understand how one can bear such a burden.

Outwardly, you project a predominant strength that is admirable but I can see when it falters. It is then that I want to give you a hug and comfort you like you have done for me on many an occasion. And, yet simple acts like these are forbidden. I'm scared that one day, this pandemic will not just take away my ability to show you love, but you with it.

Who would have known that the world would end up like this? Simple acts of love are weapons and no one is entirely safe any-more. I wonder how long the sensation will persist, in which dreams feel more real than reality.

My only hope is that my words will help you perceive the affection that is forbidden to give.

Love,

Your child