On the morning of March 18, 2020, in the moments immediately after I opened my eyes for the first time that day, I felt some peace. I was calm, and ready to begin yet another day of isolation. I would work from home, call my friends, and try some new recipes. I did not think of the crying or the drinking or staring at the ceiling. Only peace.

I glanced at my phone, and this peace I was feeling immediately disintegrated into thin air. 10 missed calls from my mama. My eyes widened and my stomach dropped. I knew that something must have happened to my dad.

“He’s on the floor, the paramedics are on their way. I can’t drive, your sister isn’t home. I don’t know what to do.”

I froze. I stayed in a single instant for what felt like an eternity. My imagination created tens of thousands of future realities in half a second. I stopped breathing and understood that I needed to move my body and start thinking clearly.

In the hour drive on the way to the hospital, I had some time to think. Clarity only visits one’s mind when it’s often too late. I thought about our last conversation, the computer monitor he shipped over to me so I could work from home, and every single waking moment of my life that I didn’t spend right by his side. I thought of every time I created so much unnecessary stress in his life and of every car ride we spent talking about outer space, design, and life philosophies. I missed him without even knowing if I needed to. I felt a surge of MDMA-like emotion and an urge to call up everyone I loved and to tell them exactly how much I cared for them. I also thought about how I should be spending my days on this Earth. I thought about my dad’s entire philosophy - one which is based on following your heart and doing whatever the fuck you want, even if that means living in a cardboard box. I needed to press pause.

Prior to the hell that is the COVID-19 Pandemic, was I living the life I genuinely wanted to live? Was I making the most out of my life? Was I spending my days doing the things that I really wanted to do, or that I felt pressured to do? I think this is an issue for a lot of people, and I think that we are all beginning to understand that life should not be taken for granted. My dad has been living his truth ever since he decided he would stop at nothing to live and breathe art. And that’s all he does, every single day of his life.

Thankfully, my dad is ok. He’s been FaceTiming me from his special quarantined room in the hospital, reassuring me that he will be fine and that no matter what, I must not piss off my mother and my little sister. But that doesn’t change the fact that I will someday lose everyone I love, whether I die first or they do. So please, give some thought to the life you have been living, and contemplate whether you would like to continue that life post-COVID-19 or if something needs to change. Tell your parents you love them and try to be more understanding of others.

Think about it.