Dear Yuri,
It’s been a load of days, a month I guess, a month of Sundays.
Who knows which one this is.
But really…I know, tomorrow should have been a tribute to a great dear friend, the scattering of her noble personage in the river that laps this abundant city we shared.
And today…the day my friend buries his mother- only 6 people allowed.
I spend my days feeling like my student self, a little work, some cooking, some sitting in the sun, quite some guilt – I’ve got it easy here myself. Idly I keep away from danger in the hope that I can go and see my own vulnerable Mum, she has a letter from the government now, and its official stuff.
The garden grows lush, a new colour pops in each day- I note my great good fortune that I have one now and shun the park.
I parent patchily and wonder how I ever fit whole day’s-worth of stuff into days.
Time slips by, I mostly sit.
Another friend’s waiting for another week to end- separated from his wife who works too close for comfort to the sick and dying- and he waits so he can go to bury his Dad, waits to see his wife again…
I think of badges, and how we share thoughts of death and people sewing gowns -apparently not enough to go round. This unjust hierarchy of who gets tested, who gets what, this world on hold and still where’s the testing. Criminals tried to tear our services down, they pushed and stretched them…. and now…
I hear its bad to taint this all with politics. I spit feathers, ‘we’re all in this together’. But perhaps here is a crossroads, I see a lot of positives emerging from the tears somehow.