I haven’t seen my daughter or granddaughter in a year; our last visit together was at the Bronx Zoo, the last “normal” day before the pandemic shut much of the country down.

Robin’s school shut down almost immediately and has been opened sporadically. Emma has a very demanding job – she supervises 60 sportswriters at the Athletic, one of the country’s most popular online sports sites.

She is in charge of their baseball coverage.

She routinely works seven days a week, especially in the evenings, when most baseball games are held. With trades and drafts, firings and controversies,  baseball is a big story all year.

She assumed when she took the job that her young daughter would be in school most weeks for five days.

That has rarely happened this year, and there is no refund of the staggering costs of elementary education in New York City when the schools can’t open.

Emma has a big job, the kind of job men did without ever dreaming of taking care of small children. I talk to Emma is often,  but like so many working women during the pandemic, the load seems to fall heavily on here.

Her husband,  Jay, is supportive; he shares the workload continuously and willingly.

But somehow, the burden of working a full-time job and caring for a four-year-old seven days a week with little relief falls most heavily on women, even when the men are sympathetic and eager to help.

Jay and Emma work and live in a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

I’ve never heard her so tired and drained, and I am very proud of her. She is a wonderful mother and, apparently, a wonderful baseball editor as well. She just got promoted for the third time.

But her rest or time off hasn’t kept pace with the pandemic.

I hope it ends for her and the other women who carry heavy and multiple tasks soon. Brooklyn is not a simple place to live in the best of time; it is tough now.

I  hope someone things to commission a statue dedicated to honoring these women who took care of our children and grandchildren when no one else could. I don’t really know a better definition of heroic than that.

Emma’s work never seems to stop, and sleep and rest are hard to come bye. And mothers are often needed in ways men are not.

Listening to my daughter has taught me of the heavy burden that falls on so many women when they have children, work at home, and when the schools close, and they are expected to be teachers and mothers, and employees.

I would find it awfully difficult to shoulder that burden; I’m not sure I could do it, especially with the love and grace and conscientiousness that my daughter has shown to everyone, including me.

In between everything else, Emma has worked hard to stay in touch with me, worry about me, keep Robin and me in touch with one another. And I have not seen a more loving or attentive mother in my life.

Emma often calls me when she is up early walking the family dog, Sandy. I think it’s the only time when she can concentrate on the conversation.

I wanted to take a minute to honor and acknowledge Emma and the millions of women who have, like so many others, borne more than their share of work during this long and grinding pandemic.

I can’t thank them all and wouldn’t know how, but if you know one of these women, and most of you probably do, I hope you’ve had the chance to tell them we know we all know what they have been through and are going through still.

Bless all of you and thanks.