I recently overheard one of my relatives trying to explain to his 13 year-old daughter why she needed to wear her mask at our annual 4th of July family gathering here on the lake.
"…and besides, you wouldn't want to kill Uncle Phil, would you!" he asked her.
"Whoa! That's a pretty heavy load to be laying on a new teenager!" I thought to myself.
Later, as I was discussing this with my wife, she pointed out that, while it might be a grim concept for her to understand completely, it was still very accurate and very true.
"I don't wear my mask just for me," she told me emphatically. "I wear it for you!"
We live in a fairly remote part of Southern Appalachia and, so far, our area has been fortunate not to have experienced what some of the more densely-packed parts of the nation have endured.
Obviously, If you have explored my blog, you'll know that I am in one of the highest risk groups there is, so if I have to venture out at all, I take every precaution I can.
Let me tell you; I hate wearing masks! But I do it.
Mostly because I want to be fashionable.
But I'll also admit that I don't want to die just yet.
And every time I'm tempted to leave the damn thing off, or not walk back to the car to retrieve it because I forgot to put it on, I remember her words;
"…I wear it for you!"
And I am also thankful that y'all wear them too!
Thanks for saving my life!
Phil