Silver Linings ... and a Dark Cloud

Many years ago, I remember prayers being offered for 'those who write what many read'.  So I recognise the need for caution in saying this.  Is it disloyal, ... or selfish ... or does it even carry a whiff of treason?  I'll risk it, and admit that there's more to my life in April 2020 than coping with a pandemic.

First off, I have to acknowledge the blessings of my condition.  I'm not considered 'very high risk'; I don't suffer from one of those dreadful diseases that would virtually guarantee hospitalisation (or worse) if I were to be stricken by the virus.  However, because of my age and asthmatic condition (which, thankfully, is quite mild compared to some sufferers), I am 'high risk', which means I don't go shopping for essentials.

Secondly, I acknowledge the blessings of my situation.  As mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I have a friend who has added me to her list of 'clients' for a regular shopping expedition (and I'm sure the word adds no exaggeration to what that weekly task must amount to).  And, arguably of greater importance, is the fact that I live alone.  Let me try to summarise two postings I found online this week that illustrate this.

The first one was possibly fictional, but realistic and quite frightening.  It described a family situation, where the mother of teenage children makes regular caring visits to her elderly father.  One of the teenagers defies the lock-down and visits his girlfriend, whose work in a supermarket has placed her in contact with someone whose sister has shown symptoms of the disease.  The result of this visit then places the boy's grandfather at risk.  A family in lock-down is essentially like one person with many bodies.  It's virtually impossible to isolate oneself from the rest of the family.

The second is sadly only too common in our crowded cities: multiple occupancy, in other words a number of families living in one property.  This short video showed the accommodation for a family of five, all sleeping in one room - I'm not sure whether they had a separate living room, or if they also spent their daytime in that same room - and they shared the bathroom/toilet and kitchen with the other families in the house.  The father, whose voice accompanied the video, said they didn't use the kitchen for fear of infection.  The restriction this places on their lives is easy to imagine.  The other thing that struck me, although not mentioned, was a notice saying that children under ten should not use the bathroom unaccompanied!

Contrast those situations to mine.  With the exception of a weekly shopping visit, I have no real restrictions.  I can take regular daily exercise (but my normal lifestyle means that this is about once a week or less) provided I say a safe distance from those I meet.  My time is my own, and the risk of infection is minimal.  Compared to 'normal' life, I now have two days a week more time to devote to my interests and hobbies.  I've played more music, listened to more recordings and watched more video than for many a month and the attention to my family history has few boundaries to restrict it.  (This week I've explored the possibility of someone on one line being related to a family of the same name on another, which I may write about on another occasion.)

The one, very sad, exception to this idyll came yesterday.  I received a much-delayed Easter card, which told of the death of the sender's husband in mid-March.  This friend, whom I have known for almost thirty years, has suffered the agony of losing her husband, and the chaos of not being able to make final arrangements because of a hold-up in obtaining the death certificate.  Her shaky writing gave evidence of her emotional state.  The cremation is finally scheduled for today, and subject to the now essential restriction of attendance by only a handful of family members.  Had it not been for the lock-down, I would willingly have driven the 100 or so miles to be there for her.  As it is, I can only pray for her and commemorate her husband's passing in this blog.