Small gifts, little gems. They are there.

Good morning. Stella couldn’t sleep so went and did something or other late last night, perhaps she wrote a blog. So I thought I would write one too.

She returned to bed at 3am. I woke at 6…mind keeps whirring…on the news late last night they said people’s moods had gone from shocked to angry. I was very angry yesterday and took it out on Twitter – on people who have just started ordering milk in bottles (worried about going out/low supplies in supermarkets, there is plenty!) when loads of us have been doing it (for environmental reasons) for years. Sorry Twitter.

I am glad I cleaned the Velux windows in my office yesterday, because rain drops look so much prettier on a clean surface! I will run today and see what the world looks like, the atmosphere, the energy, all very different now. We will rise from this, we will recover, but our lives and sensibilities will never be the same. At least mine won’t be. They have been bashed and knocked and that is not necessarily a bad thing.

New plays and books and music and dance will be created. The way we work, everything will probably be touched by what we are all experiencing. I have sorted out mum care in case we go into lockdown. We are blessed with a carer who adores mum and doesn’t want her to get sick. We have already talked about the what if…what if you die during this horrendous time and I won’t be able to have the house full of mourners for 7 nights. I want to carry our what I promised I would do for you mum, I want to honour you, mum. And mum turned to me, and paused because her vocal cords are heavily challenged, she pointed to me and said, you’re honouring me while I am alive.

Speaking on the phone is hard for mum as her ability to talk has diminished greatly. Skype isn’t an option because she can’t see. She has her big button radio (at 91 1/2 she has memorised every station and which button she needs to press) and her audible books, which I can work remotely. At least I can visit mum and ensure she has everything she needs. So many cannot visit their elders and relatives who are in care homes and unwell. That’s a gift for me right now in the middle of this global catastrophe. Hold on to the gifts we still have, there are plenty, the little gems that will pop up. Kindness. Sharing. Respect. Awareness of others’ needs. Gifts. Tell me about them. Have the conversations you wouldn’t normally have. Be afraid but be hopeful. Consider those who are alone. Do all those little jobs at home or in the garden if you have one, that you have put off. Walk. Start that exercise regime you’ve been putting off. And love (yeah, that).

If you have had or will have any unexpected gifts, and I don’t mean bars of chocolate dropped through the letter box (always welcome though…), well, you know what I mean. There are gifts in our lives every single day. We possibly haven’t seen them in the past because we have been caught up in shopping, working, rushing around, doing doing doing. Or maybe I haven’t seen them and the rest of you have. Now we have time. A little time. A different time. The time we are spending together and with the few we see is a very different time, a new experience. And it’s okay to be angry, upset, to cry, to howl, to be pissed off, because this was not in my picture and probably not in yours.

In time this picture will fade. The screen will offer us a blank page. It will be up to us to create a new picture. What will yours be?