It’s time to talk about the fear again. In fact, it was fear, unaddressed fear, that prompted this series of essays, now in its third month. Humans have as many different reactions to fear as there are humans. Having spent most of my life counseling people about what boils down to their fears of all stripes, I think it is safe to say that there are two major approaches to fear, under which all variations on a theme fall. They are: from the bottom or from the top. Consider approaching a mountain. You only have to go one way. Up or down. Do you start at the bottom and go up? Or do you start at the top and go down? It won’t surprise you that it really depends upon what you believe about gain; well, the cost of gain.

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I wasn’t quite sure how I would put together writing about the coronavirus pandemic that is leading our world at the moment and motherhood, but I wakened this morning thinking of my mother and the remarkable things she did when she was here, and, my faith would tell me, must be continuing wherever she is now. Here’s where my memories took me. All the characters in this world drama we have no choice but to witness right now had mothers. Every single one of them.

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A personal body servant of the President’s has tested positive for coronavirus as has the Vice President’s press secretary. There’s a cosmic subtext here that seems billboard-with-chaser-lights large to me. It’s as though the virus itself has said, “Fine. Go ahead. Deflect. Reject. Minimize. Abuse me and your people all you want. But if you won’t come to me, if you won’t take me seriously, if you won’t attend to the effect I am having, then fine, I’ll come to you. I’m good with that

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Yesterday’s Times had a map that showed thirty states planning to reopen to varying degrees immediately. I was proud to note that New York wasn’t one of them. The hardest part about the map is that the virus has just begun to manifest in most of those states whereas in New York, we seem to be on the downside of the curve. That’s both a relief and a terror. One of the major absences I’ve felt during the pandemic has been that of the Centers for Disease Control & Prevention—the C.D.C. A lot of surprising silence, some, and I quote, ‘suggestions,’ but no leadership at all. The Batterer-in-Chief has cowed the C.D.C. into stuttering syllables. It’s appalling.

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