Dear (July 2019) Emily,
It’s April 2020 Emily. I’m writing this apocalyptic letter from the future as a warning. Enjoy the sun, enjoy our friends, and enjoy everything that is innocently open and ready for business, because a big one is coming your way. I’m imagining that you’re in Florida with mom and dad right now. Mom is taking pictures of you on the lanai, or splashing around in the pool. Perhaps it is the day that dad went fishing against you and mom’s wishes and you’re angrily staring at the palm trees. You may be angry then, but wait until you’re stuck in the house with them for two months… Eek! I wish that being angry on the southwest coast of Florida was my biggest worry right now. A pandemic has broken out all over the world. It’s a virus that attacks your respiratory system; it’s called the Coronavirus. Currently, New Hampshire has advised everyone to stay at home if they can. A new normal has emerged. Stay in the house, stay six feet apart from each other, wash hands frequently, don’t touch eyes, nose, or mouth. Everyone speaks of the virus. Nobody dares speak of plans. People are dying and the hospitals are filling up. You aren’t going to finish your freshman year of college at Salve, but you don’t know that yet. I feel like I should be more disappointed about not finishing the year at school, but I hated dorm living anyway. I know you are enjoying dinner in the balmy Naples air. Perhaps you’re eating pasta at that tiny Italian place, or eating seafood on fifth avenue. Remember the dog that we met? The big, sweet one? We loved her. Pet her a little longer for me. This letter is all over the place, but that’s how my thoughts have been for the past three weeks. There really is no way to prepare for this. Anyway, enjoy the bliss of the sun on your face (unless you already have that wicked sunburn. In that case, cover up!), and the warm water, and even the tropical rainstorms that pass through. A summer like that may not come again in 2020. Thinking of you from the future; treat yourself well.