• Kerry D. Krauss



Today we said goodbye to Katie. It was a fine celebration. The sun shone. The birds and squirrels chattered at out our presence. We laughed. We cried. We remembered Katie’s goodness. We remembered the goodness of her Creator.

Karen, always more observant than I, tracked people from the different intersections of Katie’s life: family, co-workers from the Y, co-workers from Main Street Market, co-workers from the Piggly Wiggly, teachers and administrators from Gibraltar. Even with masks on, Karen could recognize people and associate them with the different strands of Katie’s life. If you don’t have this ability, it is great to be partnered with someone who does.

The Blossomburg Cemetery was full. People were mostly masked. People were mostly distanced. I know that not everyone agrees on the precautions we take these days, but we took them. We were not there to debate politics or choose sides or criticize choices. We suspended our judgments for 35 minutes. And we were better because we suspended our judgments for 35 minutes.

I witnessed a community today. We had a common purpose. We had a common focus. We had a common need. I don’t know what exactly creates and defines a community, but I know that a community shares purpose, focus, and need. Today, I saw it, felt it, and missed being a part of a community of shared purpose, focus, and need.

If you ask me how I will make it through another year, another season, another month, another week, another day of COVID-19, my answer is simple: I will not make it. You will not make it. We will make it. Either we all make it as a part of the human community, or we have failed the human community.

To the families that hurt, I love you.

To the communities that band together, I need you.

To the human family, I hope for you.

Please be safe.


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