A month ago, I was about to go camping, but the camping ground closed and now isn’t taking bookings.
A month ago, I played golf, but now my course, on orders from Golf Australia, is closed and all the staff laid off.
A month ago, I swam at the beach at the end of my street. The beach is now closed.
A month ago, I drank beer with some mates, mindful that we didn’t get too close. That bar is now closed, as are bars everywhere.
A month ago, I probably coughed and thought nothing of it. Now I wonder if it’s the start of something sinister.
You could say it’s been an eventful month.
I’m now in virtual lockdown, as are you.
As circumstances would have it, I’m self-isolating with my wife, a son, my daughter, her husband and my two young grandchildren.
I haven’t seen my other two sons for several weeks and don’t know how long it will be before we see them and their families again.
You’re probably in a similar position.
How are young lovers, isolated in different homes, getting on? It must be very hard for them.
I walk every morning and try to get on my exercise bike every afternoon. I do a daily crossword and I read books.
I try not to drink alcohol before 5pm, but I don’t worry about having alcohol-free days because I’m sure something else will kill me quicker.
I’ve eliminated all thought of ever taking a cruise and I’m thankful I don’t have shares in a cruise ship company or a travel agency.
Hey, I’ve got superannuation. Or I did.
My pets are happy. There are people around. No more lonely hours for them in the backyard.
The radio is on all day. Coronavirus statistics have replaced around-the-ground score updates, except that less is now good and the fact that our score isn’t as big as Italy’s or Spain’s or the US’s means we’re winning, not losing.
In December and January, firefighters were our heroes. Now it’s our healthcare workers. Who’s next? Perhaps the scientists who come up with a vaccine.
Everything’s changing and people are predicting the world will never be the same. I don’t know about that. Personally, I can’t wait to get back to where life was, and I’m not sure how I’ll change, presuming, of course, that this isn’t going to bring about my demise.
Several years ago, I had a bout of pneumonia and I declared that pneumonia would be the thing that would one day kill me.
Coronavirus isn’t too far removed from pneumonia, so who knows. Maybe I know how, just not when.
So, if I’m thinking more about my own mortality, are you thinking more about yours? And if you are, is that a bad thing?
Perhaps if we think more about death, we’ll accept it better and perhaps grieve less.
Funny what you think about when you’re sitting around not doing much.
If you enjoy our content, don’t keep it to yourself. Share our free eNews with your friends and encourage them to sign up.