Coronaverse

The Times diary TLS was asking for coronaverses, rejigging famous poems for the current circumstances. Mine was too long to use, but I got a lovely email back from someone at The Times. It is based on Ozymandias by Shelley:

I met a jogger on a lonely run,
Who said— while two metres from me – “people
stroll in the local parks… Near them, in the sun,
Half asleep a couple lies, whose love,
And lack of care, and sneer of selfishness,
Tell of their heedless concern for the rules.
They may yet survive, but might cause lifeless others,
They mock the hands that help them, these fools
And in the history books, these words could appear:
‘My name is not important, my words more so;
Look on society and despair!’
Only lessons remain. Stop the decay
Protect the NHS, care for its kin
Or the future will rue our today.”

Commemoration day

The Cambridge sky drawer strikes again

Today would have been my first day back at work after the holiday, the holiday that for many reasons, mostly health but not financial, fortunately didn't happen. It's also the holiday I am mourning as it had been part of my life for almost two years; we'd been planning it ever since we went to Costa Rica to visit my family last time. It's difficult not to think about where we’d have been each day if the holiday had gone ahead, but everyone was thinking the same, what would they have been doing if the restrictions weren’t in place. Plus, even if the borders weren't closed the day before we were due to leave, the holiday would have been so different, spent in lockdown with restaurants shut, places closed and beaches forbidden, but at least we would have been together.

Starling on Ditton Meadows

I have been reminded of it constantly, by us undoing all the bookings, trying to get our money back, in the big pile of things we were going to take out with us, in my niece's recent birthday celebrated virtually rather than in person. It's also in the small things, every time I look at my medications, contact lenses and toiletries I had stockpiled to make sure I had enough, all fortunate now, as well as the haircut I had just before we were due to fly. All have come in useful now we're in lockdown.

Blossom on our Bramley apple tree in our back garden

However I'm owning this grief and the world is grieving due to tragic bereavement, but also the loss of not being to spend birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, Mother's Day and Easter together, the loss of being able to do what we want, when we want. My grief just happens to be more specific, which actually helps having something to focus it on. The holiday grief I'm experiencing is mostly though in the loss of having something to look forward to. Now everything is uncertain. I'm uncertain when I will see my family again in person, when I can hand over the stack of presents, but also when all this is going to end. Everyone's in the same boat I know, but that knowledge doesn't help.

A heron hunting on the River Cam

So in the interest of having something to look forward to, I have made plans to commemorate the things that will no longer happen, it will give the grief some closure. For Easter, I rewatched the film Peter Rabbit as we cannot see the sequel yet now. For my birthday, I won't watch Black Widow in the cinema now, instead I will rent the recent film of Emma and watch it at home. When Eurovision, the Wimbledon final, the Olympics and Glastonbury (not that I got tickets) were supposed to happen, I will watch programmes to celebrate them; I have the 2012 London Olympics DVD and I'll watch the triumphant opening ceremony again, our last great national event. I also have the 2008 Wimbledon final between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal on DVD, so I'll watch that too; I can't say rewatch as I missed some of it; I was on holiday and we had to go out for dinner, but the match was still going, so we went to the restaurant and they kindly let me eat while watching it in the bar: as I remember it my family joined me for the end of the match with their desserts.

The bluebells we planted

My anxiety disorder thrives on uncertainty, so I need things to look forward, to hang onto, so all this will help for now, it takes me to July at least. I am also writing notes for a blog post about my experiences of this time living with an anxiety disorder, but in the past tense, which gives me hope. On a day-to-day basis, I have my daily nature/Pokemon/exercise walk, my beautiful back garden with its blossoming apple trees and numerous birds, and my birthday bluebells, if we can keep them alive that long! Because this will end, it's the not knowing that's the hardest part. All the photos in this post were taken by me over the Easter bank holiday weekend.

The sky drawer's Easter message + = love