COVID-19: Day 17 — The Queen, the Prime Minister and the New York tiger
My darling Pickle and Boo,
I’m writing this close to midnight on Sunday night, as our second weekend in official lockdown draws to a close. I didn’t think I’d have much to say since, really, it’s just been more of the same. But a few things have happened in the last few hours that have served to remind me of the magnitude of this ordeal.
I wrote last week about the juxtaposition of life within our family bubble, and the crazy, surreal, world outside of it. I now feel that even more. I’ve tuned out of Coronavirus mania as much as possible — I’m on a ‘need to know’ basis which basically means keeping abreast of any changes to government guidelines and doing the equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and closing my eyes to all the other Corona horror stories, of which their are plenty.
Of course I’m aware of the steadily rising daily death stats, which included the tragic loss of a five year old boy yesterday. I’m not under any illusion. I know that this virus isn’t just affecting older people or those with pre-existing health conditions (as we were first led to believe). I know younger people are getting seriously ill and dying from it too. I know our hospitals are already close to capacity and we are no where near the peak of this thing yet. I know our economy is already shot to shit. So, I’m not in denial. I’m just very much trying to focus on controlling only the things that I can control. It’s the only way I’ve learnt to keep panic at bay.
In practice, that means I’m focusing on getting us all through the day, which, I’ll be honest, has sometimes been easier said than done. Despite my best intentions to make this whole experience a time of fun and innocence for you, I’ve not been on best form this past week. I’m finding it hard to juggle the pressures of work (both my part-time job and the additional freelance work that unexpectedly came in) with being teacher-mum and general housekeeper. Mentally moving between these roles is draining and means that no-one is getting the best of me, so for that, I am genuinely sorry.
You’ve both been amazing and I’m SO proud of you as I know you are missing school and seeing your friends. Video-calling is no substitute for actual human contact, believe me, I know, but it’s the best we can do right now, and I am in awe of the extent to which you just seem to accept that. Daddy and I really couldn’t ask for more.
Generally, you two have been happy. We’ve had nice family times, lots of trampolining in the garden (thank the lord for that trampoline), playing catch as a family on the green today (whilst abiding by the social distancing rules), baking your first proper chocolate Victoria Sponge (cake is always good in a crisis), watching Beauty and the Beast (the classic version), pebble painting (more cathartic for me than you), bike rides (with daddy) and lots more besides. During supper tonight, we took it in turns to say what we were thankful for in the past week and your list was a long one. It wasn’t contrived, each thing you mentioned evoked genuine gratitude and, when we carried on by listing the things that we are looking forward to next week, you had an even longer list. What utter champs you both are.
Every day should feel like groundhog day. We should be fed up of eachother’s company and the confines of our home, however happy it may typically be. But I can feel that we are settling into whatever this is, and perhaps it will be hard to revert to the old normal, or a version close to it, when life as we knew it does finally resume.
Today, in the thick of it, my only strategy is to take one day at a time. And so far, it’s as good a strategy as any.
In this second week of lockdown, by tuning out the bigger picture stuff, I’ve been able to cocoon myself away from the frightening bits of this whole scenario and look inwards, not outwards. I’m holding my nerve as I navigate my way across this COVID-19 high beam from what was to what will be, trying not to look down as I go — but three things have happened in the past few hours that have caused me to wobble.
Firstly, the Queen gave an address to the nation. It was a short presentation full of thanks and British spirit. I’m sure her intention was to reassure, and I’ve do doubt that making a public address was absolutely the right thing in the circumstance. But I found it unnerving. Her time to shine is Xmas day and Xmas day alone. Appearing on our TV screens on any of the other 364 days of the year means something big is going down. The only other time in my life that I vividly remember her making a non-Yuletide public address was after the death of Princess Diana. So, it’s not what she said, but the fact she said something at all that adds weight to this whole thing. It’s another reminder that we are living out a moment of such magnitude that it will be remembered forever, for the way it brought the world to it’s knees, claimed so many lives and caused untold devastation in ways that we aren’t yet fully aware of. It’s the latter point that would scare me the most if I allowed myself to think about it more than fleetingly.
Then came the news that Boris Johnson has been admitted to hospital ‘for tests’. Reading between the lines, it’s not looking good. Again, it’s not that I’m surprised — at the moment hundreds of people are dying every day from this virus and the fact that the PM could be one of them is an obvious fact. But it just adds another layer of complex political uncertainty into the mix. It’s another reason to tune back into the news, to find out if he’s still alive or who will take over if he’s deemed unfit to lead. Selfishly, it just makes it harder to zone out.
Lastly, word came through that a tiger in a New York zoo tested positive for COVID-19 after developing a dry cough. I shit you not. Again, why this should throw me is hard to explain other than to say, it’s just another surreal turn in this twisted plot of the pandemic.
Whatever this next week brings, we’ll keep doing what we are doing because that’s all we can do. Take comfort in the knowledge that while the big stuff is undoubtedly huge, the little stuff is what grounds us. And I wouldn’t choose to be grounded with anyone else.
