My son, my daughter, and my son-in-law don PPEs,

examine patients, offer assurances, ignore risks to treat,

then come home to undress, wash clothes, and shower

before feeding families also dependant on their care.

Already exhausted, they assist children in virtual classes,

call others in college, offer spousal support to those they love.

On family Zooms, I see lines under their eyes and furrowed brows,

as they join games of Boggle and wish they were in bed asleep.

The days turn into weeks which turn into months of detailed

Telemed calls to patients at high risk, long shifts at hospitals.

I wait and hear about millions infected, thousands dying, and worry,

worry about my children working through a pandemic to save lives.