“It’s only old people. Lock them up, along with everyone with an underlying health condition and let the rest of us get on with our lives.” Yes. Some people really think that way. And they probably want to back up the imprisonment of millions by way of daily police checks and tags. Lock us – I am one of ‘us’ on both counts – up and throw away the key. It’s all so simple.
Then, I learn about the death of a 48 year old man, who I knew a little bit, and who was related to a family I know very well and I remember it isn’t so simple. I know not if he had any medical conditions that may have contributed to his passing but it really doesn’t matter.
48 is not old age. If it is, I am truly ancient. And at the moment, with arthritic toes and a painful back, I feel truly ancient. Years ago, I was, or at least I felt, totally indestructible. I would live forever. Serious illness, premature death and even death itself would not be my fate. Even at 48, I probably felt that way, too. I wonder if this guy did, too?
Now, it feels like the vaccine for COVID-19, the light at the end of the tunnel, was nothing more than an oncoming express. One step forward and thousands of steps backwards. When I woke up this morning, I felt I wasn’t living; I was just hanging on. The brighter day isn’t coming tomorrow, or even next week. I’m just hoping that the brighter day is actually coming at all.
We are here but for the accident of our birth. We are not here for any reason, other than to procreate. There is no fate, just a brief window in time we call life. And I know we need to make the best of each passing day because it will soon be over. But at this point in time, I’m finding it hard to look beyond the here and now.
I feel overwhelmed by numbers. 27,052 new infections yesterday, 534 deaths, each a tragedy for many thousands of people and I know some of their names, have drunk beer with some, have kissed at least one, have attended gigs and football matches with others. Not all of them would have been locked up and tagged. COVID took them out whoever they were.
A year ago, who could have known it would be like this. We hear about Swine Flu and SARS and a myriad of other viruses, but they never come this far. And even when this one arrived, it would be over in a few weeks. But it wasn’t and things, at least to me, feel far worse than they did last March when we went into a half-arsed lockdown.
It’s not “only” old people. It could be any and all of us. And even if it’s not you or me, it could be mum, dad, grandparents, uncles and aunties, cousins, best friends and it will mostly be people we never met. This latest tragedy feels oh so close to home. And hearing about it, a small part of me has died, too.
