Dear Yuri,
I see you.
You’re still up there. Out there. Every event that ever was, and ever could be, is there, or here, somewhere in space and time. So, I can still see you, and talk to you. And as I think about you, I wonder if you feel lonely.
Sure, you’re alone, but there’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely. Being alone is a simple matter of distance. Geography. You’re there, I’m here, and there’s a wide distance between us – relatively.
From a cosmic perspective, you’re as close to me as my next-door neighbour, whom I can hear moving about at this moment, only a few feet away, on the other side of the brick wall between our apartments. I can hear him, but right now I have to keep my distance. These are the times.
So, we’re alone, you and I, but are we lonely?
Loneliness is nothing to do with distance. It can happen anywhere, because it’s something we carry inside us, like a pain in our heart. We can be alone in a crowded room, even when people we love are right beside us. That’s a challenge we have to face.
But are you lonely, Yuri? I’m sure you’re not. Everything in your heart and your mind keeps you company: the awe you must feel, the excitement, the sheer reckless joy of being in such a unique time and space in the living, dancing universe; and the knowledge that so many people here on Earth are thinking about you, just as you’re thinking about us.
No, I don’t believe you’re lonely, any more than I feel lonely as I look up at the sky – your sky and my sky – and know we share it, now and forever. We share the wonder, the joy, the life – everything.
Happy trails, Yuri.