On 23^rd March a year after lockdown started we are encouraged to reflect on the year. To be silent for a minute at 12 pm midday, and to put a candle on the doorstep at 8 pm.

Matthew Reed of Marie Curie charity which initiated the idea said it is

“important that we all come together to reflect on our collective loss, celebrate the lives of the special people no longer here, support those who’ve been bereaved and look towards a much brighter future”

Looking back over the year

Looking back is such an important part of moving forward.  This doesn’t mean Covid is over, but a real chance to bring perspective to the year.  It has been such a year of uncertainty and stress.  Domestic abuse has gone up, and there has been a rise in anxiety and stress for all ages.  Personally I have been lucky that nobody very close to me has died from the virus, but it doesn’t mean there is not loss to be acknowledged.

Sometimes it is alarming to look back as it might recall sad or angry feelings that you hoped would have been laid to rest.  You may think you have got over the trauma, only to find you have been triggered by some new incident. On the surface it looks unimportant but it touches a buried emotion.

During this year there have been many moments of fear and panic.  The initial anxiety, then the Black Lives Matter movement triggered by the death of George Floyd in the US, rising death rates and further lockdowns during the winter which felt harsher than the first one.  I would say the Harry and Meghan revelations in their interview with Oprah raised more emotion because they came after a year of lockdown.

We have not been able to discharge our emotions and to get together with our family in real life.  There are a great many young children in our family, and even six weeks without seeing them is a very long time.  

I feel lucky that nobody close to me has suffered with Covid.  Nobody I love has died.  The only death in the family was my mother in law at the end of a long life.  She had wanted to die a number of years before, and in some respects we knew her death was something she was happy to experience.  And it was peaceful and natural which is probably what we would all like.

I was talking to a friend yesterday on her second lockdown birthday.  She was recalling on the first birthday she had great fear and felt robbed of her celebrations. This year by contrast she was looking forward to a small village event on zoom, and deeply valued the long conversations she had during the day. She felt she was more aware of the small pleasures in life.  Less at the mercy of her paid work.

This year has been a chance to notice the small things more.  The beautiful Spring during the first lockdown, regular contact with friends and family even if over zoom, and those who are more introverted have used it as a time to work on projects. The lack of distractions has been welcome.

As someone who has been thrown out of normal life a number of times it was comforting that I was not alone.  Divorce, illness and flood have pushed me out of my previous life, which has felt hard because the rest of life seemed to continue without me.  There has been little sense that I “ought” to have met up with people, because we have not been allowed to. This whole year has meant fewer decisions.  I can’t go to the shops because the shops aren’t open, I can’t go to the cinema, or invite anyone round or meet friends in a coffee bar because we are not allowed to. There may have been other problems but there has been a lack of interactive decision making which has released some energy.

An opportunity to receive

I remember saying to a friend a year ago who was chafing at her lack of independence that I felt it was an opportunity for receiving.  Normally I would not have dreamed of asking for any help, but any time help was offered I made myself accept it gladly.  This was particularly relevant with regard to shopping.  My neighbour offered to go to our local fruit and veg shop – and occasionally to the supermarket – for me once a week.

As I had no luck with getting online deliveries, I gladly took him up on his offer.  So regularly during the year he went to the village shop and bought for me as well as for himself and his wife.  It felt exciting to find the box on the doorstep and although I made a list of suggestions, it was not strictly adhered to so I enjoyed the element of surprise. We had conversations we would never have had before as he normally has a very long work day out of the house.  Like many others I have had much closer contact with my neighbours which started when we clapped and banged saucepans for the NHS at 8 pm on Thursdays.

We have hope that things will continue to open up slowly as per the government’s Roadmap, and it will be a joy to get back to a more carefree life.  However looking back over the year has reminded me that the lack of external distractions has provided an opportunity to enjoy the smaller moments, which I hope to continue.