As we find ourselves in our second stint of lockdown in the UK. I have once again found myself battling with an array of mixed emotions. Just as I felt we were turning a corner on how we could choose to spend our time in various places with the people we enjoy spending time with, the government in its wisdom tell us to lockdown again.
I am enraged. None of it makes any kind of sense. Any independent free thinking critical mind can see this. Following on from the rage, is confusion, surely if it worked last time, then why again? And if it didn't work last time, then why are we doing it again now?
But as I try to comprehend such measures, my heart is also aching. I lost a dear friend from my village. As I still grapple with the shock of such a loss because of course, this was the friend I confided in, the friend who listened to me without judgment, the friend I created mischief with. The friend who really 'saw me'. My problem solving brain tries to find solutions for the new terrain I am now walking on; Alone without her. My wing-man has gone and yet, if I still my mind for long enough, I feel her essence, memories are still fresh, I can hear her voice, her mischievous laugh and I ask her what she would do in these present times?
The answer lies in the phrase of 'Life is too short'. My friend had much to live for, but it was cut short. She didn't appreciate the last lockdown, choosing to live as hard as her weakening body allowed. We continued to hug, hold hands, cry, laugh, gossip and plan. Nothing could hold us back, not even the Government and it's rules. We didn't know how long we had. None of us do. I wonder if we all knew we would die tomorrow or next week, whether our decisions would be different?
As I tentatively begin to take small steps into my village and its community on my own, my first community engagement took place today. A fortnight before the threat of another lockdown was mentioned, I ordered 500 Daffodil bulbs to plant on the Avenue of Remembrance. The troops were gathered to help and a date was penciled in, then Lockdown happened. I was determined more than ever to get the task complete with or without the support. Spring Bulbs would not wait for anyone or any virus. And Lord knows, we all need a bit of a cheer come Springtime even if it comes in the form of bright yellow dancing daffodils.
Finally after initial resistance from individuals, I reaffirmed that under the Volunteer and Charitable sector, what we would be doing was not illegal. And even if it was, I had made my stance clear that I wasn't afraid to be arrested for the cause. I had the backing from many people and am pleased to say, we had around 25-30 people come and help. The sun was shining down on us and the banter flowed, just as it always does between fellow villagers. As I stood witnessing the comradeship, I felt blessed and lucky to be alive. My only disappointment being that on mentioning the possibility of going for a well deserved pint in the pub afterwards, I was swiftly reminded that all pubs were closed. Village pubs we miss you!
It's funny how the day in the life of a country village girl goes. On returning home, my next task was to finish off two paintings I created in honour of my friend. She loved Sunflowers and when she was alive, one of our greatest joys was to decorate the back of the Church for all the festivals.
We were living proof that Telepathy was real. The number of times we would both come up with a new creation on the same sleepless night and on comparing notes the next day, we discover they were almost identical. Every year we challenged ourselves to create more elaborate displays than the previous one.
This time, I have made an offering with the paintings and as I walked up to hang them in position I see that her grave has been dug, it brings it all back home, she's never coming back. From thinking about life and the future of newly planted bulbs we had just scattered, full of promised full of life itself and then I arrive in the lap of death in the same morning. A finality, a completion, the reaching of its full circle.
I am more determined than ever to make her legacy live on. Her legacy to me, being that every moment is worth fighting for, to remain independent, joyful and free.
She ran out of steam, but I will pick up where she left off. Life is precious, Lockdown or not, my drive to make every minute of everyday count will be my farewell gift to her. after all, None of us know when we may draw our last breath.
