Day Thirty-five

Feest Isolation Days – 18 April

I shouldn’t have looked at my diary.  It should have stayed hidden along with the rest of my life and then I wouldn’t have thought about not going to listen to the concert we booked months and months ago.  It’s a bit like picking at a scab when you were a kid.  You want to see what it makes you feel like so you pick and pick. I’m not a kid but it felt as bad as when I was one.  I looked further and saw other things that I, and we, missed. There were your names beside some of these dates and I felt sad. Too many bits of our lives have drifted away and we aren’t able to do anything about it.  This damn virus!  Some days it just smacks you in the face and you have to dig deep, really deep not to let the situation get the better of you. 

A nurse in Southmead Hospital in Bristol died.  Another pregnant nurse died elsewhere and I shut my eyes and silently grieve for them both and want to hug the daughter of the first nurse, and cuddle the baby of the second.  Instead, I carry on doing the things I do and thanking whatever I thank when I am grateful for the air, the sun, the flowers the birds. Rest in peace.

Then out of nothing and from nowhere, you take a deep breath and have a cuppa and don’t let yourself swirl down into those grim feelings that are lingering just next to the number of deaths and the response that you have to them.  Big sigh.  Deep breath.

The lockdown is to stay in place for at least another three weeks.  When it is lifted, who knows what will happen.  There won’t be a way of avoiding the many many more days we oldies will be asked to stay put.  So we have to carry on and do what we can do from where we are.

My neighbour has started a sewing group and they are making facemasks for the local hospital. I try and get the message out a bit to friends who can sew. Not a skill I possess.  We all have to do what we can.

Another neighbour in her late eighties needs some help from carers and doesn’t know how to find anyone to visit her at home. This is something I can help with.   There are systems in place that are working and when you eventually find the number there are even people at the end of some of them instead of recordings promising to phone you back.  A young man gave me helpful information and suggested that my neighbour call him directly. She did and phoned me back to say she had an amazing day and would be getting the help she needed.  

During the afternoon, I washed all the fruit and vegetables our key worker delivery man brought to us, then turned to the butcher’s bag and did the same. Routines are changing, and besides the washing (!) I spent a great deal of the afternoon ironing.  Clare, who has been doing our ironing for over twenty-five years would have done it in half the time. I don’t know how she does it!  When this is all over, maybe I’ll get a lesson.  In the meantime, she has her boys to look after and we converse by text. 

My husband continues to create and develop our garden. He had to hack away at a large plant that had died. Even though there is no food growing, the garden feeds us in important ways. 

Tomorrow is another day.  And then there will be another.  And they all belong to us until they don’t.  Enjoy what you can and stay strong.  This too shall eventually pass!

Sometimes a bit of beauty and an extra yoga stretch does it.  Or helping a friend.

So here is a little beauty…

And finally….

 A guy burned both of his ears.. so the hospital doctor asked him how it happened.

He said,” I was ironing and the phone rang. Instead of the phone I picked up the iron and burned my ear.

“But how the heck did you burn the other ear?” The doctor asked.

He replied, “They called back.”

With love

Kathy x