Today is a day just like any other. All days at the moment are just like any other.
Today I am struggling.
Yesterday I hunkered down with my family, binged watched the TV, ate chocolate and knitted very small hats for the local maternity unit.
Today it really dawned on me that we may never get back to ‘life as we knew it’.
Yesterday I was optimistic. The paper was full of stories of scientists banding together, forging unheard of cross country partnerships, to develop vaccines and therapeutic drugs.
Today the paper says we may never have a vaccine.
Yesterday the exit strategy had not been discussed in public at all.
Today the paper says that government sources have said that possible exits involve my older family members staying isolated for 18 months.
Yesterday I listened to the government give more money to local councils to help and thought ‘good for you’.
Today I read that our Prime Minister took an extended break in the weeks leading up to the pandemic getting a hold here and that the UK was so busy with Brexit and cost savings that it let PPE levels run dangerously low.
Yesterday a friend dropped off rhubarb at my door. Clandestine fruit delivered with kindness,
Today the paper is full of vitriol against cyclists and shoppers.
Yesterday it rained for the first time in ages and I stood on the front drive and let it splash on my face marvelling at how out of tune I had got with the natural world.
Today I do not want to get out of bed.
We are all dealing with a huge amount at the moment. I will get up. I will feed my family, hang up washing to dry and probably force myself out on a walk.
Today this is all I feel capable of.
Many many people have it a lot lot worse. But all we can do is deal with our own reality, we can support those who have a worse reality, respect their sacrifice and suffering. But we can only experience our own.
Be kind. Always.