This bit was written in early April of 2020, when we were still all coming to grips with the reality of COVID.
A house down the road from us has a campaign sign in the front yard that looks quaint these days. It reads “Any functioning adult: 2020”. Indeed, there is a common theme in the ongoing tragicomedy playing out in daily briefings from government officials at all levels, from VP Pence and Dr. Fauci to beleaguered senators, congressmen and governors of states in desperate need of Federal aid. It is a theme that can be recognized by anyone who has ever cared for a newborn infant.
“I finally got the baby to sleep. Shssh!”
The exhausted parents can finally deal with the million important things that keep everybody in the family healthy, fed and alive. Once baby is asleep, they tiptoe around the house, speaking in low voices, hoping for a few minutes of adult time before the next feeding or diaper change. Babies, of necessity, are self-centered creatures. Because they cannot do for themselves, their only recourse is to cry for attention. They are like little black holes, curving space around themselves so that, within their orbit, everything is drawn in. The saving grace of infancy is that, eventually, babies grow up (we hope) to return the love and care with which they were provided to others.