We are still labouring under the curse of that virus, with no end in sight unless everyone gets a jab.
I promised myself that I would update this blog often, but time seems to fly and so it'a a month since I last wrote something - about survival, which is still topic number one in view of the danger of catching the virus and being a high risk candidate, so that there is no prediction that I would survive.
Two weeks ago my oldest relative, a cousin aged 92, died of a recurring infection that was not the virus. The almost physical pain of losing the last real contact with my youth and family caught me unawares. I scribbled countless drawings to relieve depression. I could not bear to play the piano or listen to music.
On reflection, there is so much in one's life that one cannot explain satisfactorily later, but that particular loss was very hard to bear, especially at a distance of 1000km. A webcast was made possible so I attended the sad little funeral, made even more remarkable because everyone wore a face mask. Nobody sang. Appropriate canned music was played and appreciated
So that's what life is all about, is it? If you look back when you are old, it usually distresses you. If you look forward, there is very little there. So we live for the day we are happy to have woken up to, and that is probably the best solution.
This short blog is really to remind me that we are all in the same boat, and I should - despite setbacks, disappointments and often a self-inflicted nemesis - be grateful.
I doubt whether anyone will read these lines, but what matters to me is that I have written them.
No comments:
Post a Comment