We were already writing the stories of how we’d remember the great pandemic. It was all gaining a sheen of nostalgia. It came on like a morning frost to make everything sparkle, though it was all cold and sharp. Lily described it to her therapist, she was always so positive. She talked about the chocolates and time together as a family, watching TV. There was a lot to celebrate still. We wanted to believe that, but it was a far-away feeling with wings like faith you can’t entirely trust, you have to breathe hope into it to make it fly.