Despite a global lockdown, life goes on. We make connections, nurture connections, mow the grass, exercise, clean the house, listen to the birds, work. We have good days, and we have bad days.
Yesterday was not a good day for me. I had trouble concentrating. I knew what I needed to do, but I struggled to think them through or focus on them. I went out twice, once for essential supplies and once of exercise. That seems crazy to even write that. I feel guilty I went out twice. Until three weeks ago I could do in and out as many times as I wanted in a day. But now I go out for an hour a day. Otherwise I am in my home environment. But I went out twice yesterday, in the hope of resetting my brain. How strange is the world we live in? I am a person who likes being at home, but yesterday I just wanted to be out of the house.
People who are grieving struggle to concentrate, to settle to tasks. I think I am grieving, grieving the losses of daily life, aware of the losses of so many other people, conscious of the trauma of hospital and care home staff dealing with a higher number of deaths than normal. I think I am also grieving a future that I trusted to be safe. I think I will be wary of being too close to other people for some months yet. Going to a play or a movie are not likely to be on my agenda for awhile. I am dreading future decisions about travel. And when I actually see my friends and family again, will I want to hug them? I loved watching at television programme called “The Walking Dead.” It is about a pandemic and the resulting zombie apocalypse. Is this our life now?
I feel a bit lost. In some ways I am content with a slower pace of life—but I am aware I am in a very privileged position. I still have a home and a job. I have people who contact me and who I can contact. I have what I need for today and tomorrow. I am grateful, but I am also still grieving.
We can deny. We can blame others. We can worry. The reality is that life has changed. Grief doesn’t go away if we ignore it. I have to grieve my losses, real and perceived, before I can find a way to live with this new reality.
So yesterday was a grieving day. I hope today is a more even keel day. I hold onto these words: “When I walk through the valley of deepest darkness, Thou art with me.” The psalmist doesn’t say we can avoid challenges and pain. Instead the psalmist reminds us that we never walk alone. God is with us—on our bad days and our good days. We never walk alone.
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