Yes, I am sending the kids to school tomorrow.
No, I don’t know how to process that the walls feel like they’re closing in, again.
Yes, I filmed my students dancing like they were “cold chocolate shivering” and “beautifully tearing paper off presents” today.
No, I don’t know how to process much of anything today.
Yes, I am worrying. Yes, yes, yes.
No, I am not panicking. No, no, no.
Yes, I remember my dad telling me over the phone in March that there would be an end to this.
No, I don’t see the end yet.
Yes, I saw the refrigerated truck parked outside the hospital. I visited it like a gravestone when I went for my walks last April.
No, it will not be exactly like that again, not exactly.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, this family is waiting on five PCRs and there are only four of us.
No, no results yet.
Yes, the strings on the violins inside the music room vibrated the notes of Carol of the Bells today at the school, yes the snare drum in the auditorium, yes.
No, I don’t want this again.
No, thank you.
No, we did everything we were supposed to do.
No, don’t send my kids home from school where they are living a life that feels like actual life.
Yes, keep all five of us safe — Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, The Bronx, and Manhattan.
Yes, let the tests come back negative. Let all of the test results come back negative.
Yes, remember who we are to each other.
Yes, remember how we cared for one another when things felt unfathomable.
Yes, yes, yes.
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