In Washington DC, just north of the Washington Monument, in the fall of 2021, a very moving memorial was displayed for weeks, honoring the lives of Americans who died of COVID-19 since we began keeping an official count.

Close to 700,00 small white flags were planted in the grass in neat rows like the gravestones of fallen soldiers at Arlington Cemetery across the Potomac.

The installation, titled, “In America: Remember,” was the work of artist Susan Brennan Firstenberg. Each flag, often including a hand-written note penned by a loved one, represented one life lost.

Of course, there are other casualties of the pandemic. Instead of an impressive display occupying our national mall, the signs of something being missing shows up “For Lease” signs occupying countless store fronts in strip malls everywhere.

The signs, boldly printing contact information for the commercial leasing company managing the space can seem very matter of fact, but the absences they represent are still affecting.

I used to hate “strip malls,” small groups of stores, often franchises, related only by shared walls and parking lots with spaces that barely leave enough room to open a car door. Visiting one now just make me feel sad.

Now, I think of them as “Stripped Malls.” Supposedly, they are making a comeback, but in so many neighborhoods, it seems that they’ve been stripped of 40% of their tenants.

When any card shop, hair salon, or family-owned diner had to close their doors over the last two years because there was so little street traffic, people lost more than money. Locals may have lost a shopping option and many small business owners lost their dreams.

Last week, I was in pain from a bout of arthritis in my right knee and I was feeling blue. I remembered a friend once recommended a salon close-by where I could get a reasonably-priced pedicure. I decided I could use a little pampering.

Super Nails is tucked away in a strip mall about a mile from where I live. It’s probably typical of other nail salons. Narrow and long, every inch of its walls are filled with tiny bottles of colorful nail polish. Like a mosaic in a train station, the sight is both striking and easy to ignore.

When I walked in, my attention was demanded by almost every other sense. Small fans were humming to clear the place of fumes. Once I picked out a color (the techs couldn’t believe I chose “clear”), I was directed to an oversized, faux leather massage chair sitting above a foot basin.

The basin was already filling with warm water. A low plastic rolling cart, equipped with clippers and files and fragrant soaps, was poised nearby where my tech sat.

The chair was ready to kneed and punch my back. I concentrated on not jumping as my toenails were being clipped.

After a pumice stone was rubbed against the soles of my feet and hot towels were draped over my legs, my feet were fitted with throwaway flip flops and the polish was applied. Then, I was led to another part of the shop where I sat with my feet under a blower for ten minutes.

As I stood at the cashier’s station, paying for the pedicure by credit card and tipping my nail tech by slipping her cash, I Looked at the interior of Super Nails again.

Seven women and one man were ready to be called into action whenever a customer walked in. (When I was there, the help outnumbered the customers by almost two to one). Everyone helped with every task the shop required; laundering towels or restocking shelves with polish.

Every nail tech took their turn. Even though each person probably could have used the money, the survival of the business depended on everyone feeling they operated under a fair system and got along.

As I walked to my car, I saw several “for lease signs” in windows of other spaces in the mall.  The anchor tenant, a Core Power Yoga studio had closed down as did three other businesses. A smaller work-out studio (Pure Barre), an eyewear shop, a non-urgent care complex, and a place for Chinese take-out remained.

I felt a lot of admiration for the business owner and for the employees of Super Nails.

Not to compare staying in business despite the pandemic with people living under bombardment and invasion or with people struggling with health issues, the spirit and will to keep going, to live, is worth noticing and celebrating with gratitude however it shows up.

Sometimes just surviving another day, is no small thing.