Dear World,

There was a time when I had the ability to visit my family at a moment's notice, a time when traveling was so simple.

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There was a time when I had the ability to visit my family at a moment's notice, a time when traveling was so simple. I would board a train at Grand Central and ride north for an hour and a half, gliding through the trees, passing ponds and reservoirs. About a decade ago, things changed slightly. My Mother wanted to move to warmer climate and so my mode of transportation switched from a train to a plane. And yet, it was still a “two hour” trip. Minus the airport security and rigamarole, there wasn’t that much of a difference for me between a one and half hour train ride and a two hour flight.

But over time, reserving flights and time for the trips became more difficult and my frequent weekend visits became less frequent. And then four years ago, Maddyson, my niece, was born and once again, things changed. Her arrival rearranged time for me. My visits became more frequent again, she gave me more incentive to hop on a plane, as she was growing up so was our bond.

Maddyson and I had a conversation on March 15, 2020, the week I had a flight booked to spend some time with the family.

She asked “When are you coming to visit tia” (Tia is Aunt in Portuguese)

I said “In a couple weeks”

To my surprise, Maddyson asks again, “ ...When the virus is over?”

I answer, “Yes, when the virus is over.”

A couple of weeks passed, followed by a couple more.

Today, more than ever I feel the distance. What I thought would be a couple of hours to commute just to feel my Mother's hug, to taste her home cooking, to hear my sisters’ laugh, seems now to be an eternity.


Sincerely,

Two Hours