Day 7 - a party

I woke up this morning and cast my mind back to the events of the day before. Confused images of my mum dressed in party wear and running trainers, jogging down the street having completed a park run in New Earswick flashed in to my mind. A vision of her skipping in to a house party, bottle in hand, and becoming lost in a crowd of revelers. I remembered my panic as I braved the hoards of party goers, frantically trying to find her and remove her from the Corona Virus breeding ground before she inhaled any deadly particles or touched a surface infected with germs. The music was banging, the drunken people were squashed together like hill walkers on Snowden last weekend. It was horrendous, where was my mum and why was she here when she should be self isolating? This wasn't usual behavior for my peaceful, church going, bicycle riding, tea total, lovely and reserved 71 year old mum.... Then I realised it was all a dream. Thank God! At least something interesting is happening in my dreams...

As I lay there debating whether to change in to gym attire or put a work out off until tomorrow (plenty of time, no rush,...) I sadly realised how, in such a short time, things have changed so dramatically. The fear of loosing my business overwhelms me most days, and the weird feeling that my time is not ridiculously busy and stressful is taking some getting used to. The thought that day after day is filled with not much is strange, and although novel (note to self, I must write one, get it published and make my fortune before lockdown ends) I could not live like this is given a choice. But after my dream, I was overwhelmed to realise that the simple things we all did, that we all took for granted, are now more of a horrifying nightmare. Who would go to a house full of people now? The thought of being close to anyone, especially strangers, is suddenly a shocking idea. The thought of hugging or kissing a loved one now feels so far removed from normality that it makes me sad. We all took physical contact, closeness to the people we love, for granted. But to me anyway, this feels like a lifetime ago. It is a very sad and difficult part of this evil virus. I hope one day the world will be able to hug and kiss each other again (only if we want to of course, I am not encouraging another #metoo situation) I hope strangers won't cross the street to avoid each other forever, and I hope I don't have to shout across the road to my lovely neighbours for too much longer. I hope to hug my mum again very soon and for very long. And I hope that it won't be in the too distant future, if she so wishes, that she can put on her party dress and running shoes, and attend a house rave if that is what she chooses to do.

(The pic is from another fave place, the top of Sutton Bank)

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