I write to you through tears upon another tortured day. 8 months of unending stress and torment. 8 months since my grandmother has been shut away in an assisted living home, barred from a real visit by me or my family.

Do you imagine that spending months, and months, and months alone at the end of your life is better than potentially catching a virus for someone in their final years? Not understanding why your family has stopped visiting? Their memories fade with every day that goes by without seeing their loved ones. They can't hold on as hard as they try. The joy of seeing something they remember, they love... the only part of their day that makes their eyes light up.

Month after month. Soon to be a year and then likely another year.

Can you imagine what it feels like to be forcibly separated from your own family? For our seniors, or for their families?

Can you personally grasp this, as I desperately write you?

And there is no real end in sight. Not with you, not with the government and media.

The end is years away, if we’re lucky, by the absurd criteria you demand be met before real people, before I, can live my life again. In these years (or months, if we’re fortunate enough to have at least somewhat of an awakening to the utter futility of this landscape) it will be far too late for countless humans, countless lives like mine which will have been irreparably, senselessly and permanently destroyed in an entirely arbitrary way, devoid of all reason. Months beyond months taken, lifetimes of work and relationships stolen.

We are real people. Your numbers are humans with flesh and blood. We cannot regain what you’ve taken.

It must be fairly easy to sit and issue edicts without seeing or feeling or experiencing for yourself the personal fallout under which millions of citizens are breaking. I do not say that to be abrasive, but to be honest.

I imagine being insulated from the extremely tangible implications of unconscionable mandates, you can do pretty much whatever you want without really thinking about anything other than the singular narrative which has been chosen for us, other than the blind panic that feeds your public policies, other than the path of inane measures of false security that you’ve chosen for these panicked, at the expense of everyone else. At the expense of sense itself.

Isolation. You’ve chosen one small narrative at the expense of everything else, over everything real and beautiful that makes life LIFE.

Isolation. Fear. Ceasing to live - and being denied the means to live. Because you may catch a virus. Perpetual separation and measures that lost any efficacy they may have had SEVEN MONTHS AGO.

Do you imagine that spending months, and months, and months alone at the end of your life is better than potentially catching a virus for someone in their final years? Not understanding why your family has stopped visiting?

Is this what you think? Month after month. Soon to be a year and then likely another year.

Can you imagine what it feels like to be forcibly separated from your own family? For our seniors, or for their families?

Can you personally grasp this, as I desperately write you

If we are to bend, crack and break under the demolition of our economy by extreme and perpetually nonsensical unconstitutional measures - we, the working class, the small business employees, the backbone of America paying the dear and excruciating price of this inane reaction while the elite and privileged scoff at us to “stay home” from their untouched perch - if our businesses must close all around us, our livelihoods be destroyed, our hard work be abolished, our savings be wiped out, so be it.

To take all this away and separate us from our families on top of it is a cruelty you must answer for.

It has been 8 months since you isolated our grandparents from us. 

8 months.

End this. Please. Leave it up to families of the elderly if they are allowed to be seen. Give us and them this right that all humans should have.