An Open Letter to September 2020

Dear September,

It’s me, April. I’m writing to you because I’m heading your way and I’m eager to know what the world is like where you are.

You probably know by now that over here we are still self isolating, social distancing and all those other phrases that have become everyday parlance by now. Do those things still exist there? I’m sure they do, but I hope they’re not as all encompassing as they are where I am.

I’m sure you’ve also heard that there are no sports here. What about there? I’d like to think there will be sports to watch when I get there and I’d like to think that people can go and watch them. Be a part of a crowd again.

But I won’t get my hopes too high.

Some sports here are talking about June as a time to be back up and running (pun intended!) but that seems wildly optimistic to me. Especially given how things are in America right now.

What is America like there?

No wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

Are your sidewalks still scarred with duct tape? Measuring out the distance between us all?

And what about the bars and restaurants? Does it feel “normal” to walk into a bar there?¬† Or has our new normal just become the normal everywhere now?

One of the things I’m most looking forward to when I get there is being able to look back at where I am now and seeing how it looks from your vantage point. A new perspective¬† never does anyone any harm right?

But what would be even better, although I’m sorry to say this is something neither me nor you will be able to do my good friend September, would be to read the historians of the future.

What will they say about me in fifty years time? In one hundred years time? What will they say about you? Or will the two of us just blend into one? What if we’re not as momentous as we feel we are? Indistinguishable and unimportant within the arc of the story?

The Rosencrantz and Guildenstern of the whole affair.

Is it too early to say which way the dice will roll from where you are?

Will people turn in on themselves and hide from the world and the “other”, or will they turn away from the system that led them to this? Maybe when I get there I will have a clearer idea?

I suppose the whole thing is fascinating in an “interesting times” kind of a way. A worldwide experiment that still has a long, long way to run. But let’s just hope that me and you are in the placebo group!

Anyway, I have to go now.

I can hear May begin to stir somewhere downstairs and he will be knocking at my door before I know it. All disheveled and weary, but with the light of the summer to be bursting out of his eyes.

Between you and me September, I’m dreading the moment when I have to sit him down and tell him about the world he will find out there. But what can you do?

Sorry for all these questions. I’m sure you have your own troubles to navigate, but stay safe and I’ll see you sooner than you know.

I really hope we can catch a game together when I get there.

Your friend,