Our grandparents told us, but we didn't believe it.

The following article was written by American writer Allison Glock, whose articles were published in the New York Times, New Yorker, Esquire, Rolling Stones, GQ, etc.

My 19-year-old daughter sits in front of me at the table, her eyes are filled with many questions. She's fighting, like all of us, with the existential purgatory we're finding ourselves in. We do not know when it will end, or how it will end, or what effect it will have on us as humans, as a country.

My daughters, like countless others in the world, have changed their routine and separated from their friends. Their lives were shaken and directed to their parents, who, in turn, do not know what is coming.

They read newspapers, are informed by the phone. They personally know many doctors and nurses who are fighting on the front line. They feel the distress in the air. I have to do everything I can to calm them down.

I tell the 19-year-old girl I understand she feels lost, empty. I remember how lucky we are. All together. That we have a dog. We love each other. That we can hug.

I also say that I think deeply about my grandparents. When I was young, I watched them play cards with each other, choose crosswords, dance together in the room, watch TV.

My family comes from Appalachia. The grandparents lived in a house in a small industrial town in Virginia. They walked the same sidewalks, sat in the same places, sang as they washed the dishes, did a rumor. Simple life resulting from a lack of opportunities.

Even so simple, it was nice. Now I believe their words. They knew what it was worth. Grandpa served in the war. And Grandma. They saw death, vanity, heroism and loss. They knew what really mattered.

We'll have to find the motivation in small things, tell the other girl. At the moment. After long and turbulent hours, we'll sit down and find the meaning of life in peace.

Or at least admit no one promised tomorrow.

I understand the situation. I want to cry, smoke, be alone. But instead, take a shower, drink coffee, put on lipstick.

I see them standing in the courtyard, lying on the blanket while reading together. I see them out the window. The sun shines on their faces. Birds keep flying. There are flowers all around.