Sooner or later, we will receive word, perhaps via a phone call, maybe a text or email, that someone we know—a relative, a friend, a co-worker—has developed the symptoms of Covid-19.  

We may hear from the person how he's been told to self-isolate at home. We may receive a text to call her as soon as possible. Calling, we learn that her husband is in the hospital. And while she was allowed to visit him yesterday, she was forbidden to see him today. She is now sitting in the parking lot at the hospital. Alone.  

The state of being alone is extraordinarily difficult for social beings like us to handle. We know from experience how when words fail us, physical connections—a hand on a shoulder, a hug—can show the person how we understand and care deeply. Today, all too easily, we can find ourselves in conditions that forbid that comforting physical connection.  

We can rail against this reality. We can become despondent. But, hopefully, we will acknowledge it and get creative. We can see heart-warming examples of this all around us. Individuals out on their balconies in cities around the world cheering health-care workers as dusk settles. Neighbors practicing physical distancing as they celebrate a little boy's birthday. An elderly grandmother standing next to her daughter's car with its rolled-up window. Inside the car, the daughter holds up her newborn baby.  

Yes, many of us are physically alone. But, spiritually, we are together. The physical separation will, at some point, thankfully end. The spiritual togetherness will remain. 

And what of that "hypothetical" woman in the hospital parking lot? Her brother drove to it and parked next to her. If nothing else, they could be alone together.