I smile but they can’t see it.

Because we’re on a Zoom call and I’m not visible.

Because I’m wearing a mask.

Because we don’t meet eyes and turn our faces away to prevent contamination.

Maybe I’m not smiling anymore.

Because the future seems uncertain.

Because I’m worried about my kids, not just today but for the future they may or may not have.

Because I’m exhausted from daily decision fatigue and the inability to plan more than a few days in advance before the rules change.

They may not be able to see my smile, but I can say thank you to our librarians for providing stacks of books for eager readers.

I can greet my neighbors at a distance when I take my daily walks through the neighborhood. I wave even if I don’t know their names and wish them a good morning.

Maybe if I wish it for them, it will be so.

I say thank you to the woman whose job is to disinfect carts at my grocery store and to the check out attendant who has probably been working overtime.

Or I could smile anyway, and hope, somehow, it shows.