“Can’t believe I’m making masks for my grandbabies and it’s not Halloween,” my mother posted on Facebook a few weeks ago along with this picture.

Her post struck me.

Maybe it was her words, which made me visualize my own babies wearing the masks.

Maybe if it was actually seeing the tiny masks she created with her own two hands. Masks made for people who should never have to wear them or the burden of what is going on in our world right now.

Or maybe it was feeling my own mother’s sadness come through her message. My strong mother. My rock. The one who still comforts me when times are difficult.

Whatever it was, the post was a reminder of the surreal life we are all living right now and the reality that everyone is affected by it.

Every last one of us.

And that is a hard reality, but one that we have no choice but to face.

All we can do is hold onto each other, figuratively of course, and help each other through this one step at a time.

One week, one day, one hour at a time.

And when our handmade masks finally arrive to our mailbox, after their two week cross country detour, we will wear them bravely just as we will face each moment of this weird new normal.

Together.