This Year, Just Wait.

By: Caroline Jung

when you live in diaspora

lights turn on when turned off

day equals night;

today is yesterday and tomorrow.

holidays are spent with

no one or

one person or

immediate families.

if you want to see family,

if you want to hear family,

if you want to be with family,

you pay.

usually detached;

the globe spans 24,901 miles

and the other side brings comfort

but how often can you walk there?

yet some argue

a couple months last longer than

five years

decades

they can’t wait a little

but we’ve been waiting our whole lives.

why must we suffer

and see the cases rise from their hands?

This poem is based on Thanksgiving and how some extended families are traveling despite COVID-19 concerns. As someone who hasn’t seen extended family for a couple years, I’ve continually been struck this year that people don’t realize that not being able to see family is daily life for people in diaspora. It hurts seeing people travel and expose others to the virus because they can’t handle a couple months without seeing extended family when I have stayed at home this year and haven’t seen my extended family.