It is the end of February 2021. England is still in the third national lockdown. Vaccinations are in full steam and everyone is hoping the Virus Time is almost over. Boris announced an ease of restrictions. No one is too naive. The virus will stay with us forever, and so will the periodic vaccinations. My first anniversary is approaching. On March 20, 2020, I left the building where I work and went home for the first time for a forced time off.
First, I was going to title this piece Love in a Time of Plague. Then I thought I was going too far. Not because I’m copying. Probably not too many people remember that book. Personally, I do not rate it too high, although the title itself is great. From the same author, I can fully digest only the magnificent One Hundred Years of Solitude (speaking of the titles, this one is also great). Somehow it just didn't suit me. Besides, someone is about to say that I used the title to get more results in the search engine. Later I wanted to call this text The Time of a Virus 2, but I quit too. I didn't like that 1, 2, 3, and then what? Fast and the Furious 18? Can't I come up with anything better? Well, maybe I can't, but I won't plagiarize myself. End of the line, I decided to stay by what stands in the title.
Now for real. What will it be about? I already said that I have no intentions to write about the virus, although I did write, and so on... And now again? Well, not really. This will be about what the virus has done for me. You got that right. For me. What it has done to me. In this piece, ladies and gentleman, I am not interested that the UK vaccinates. You know what? The previously announced 50,000 victims turned into over 100 thousand. Trump lost the election and there was no Christmas. In Poland, gay people are being oppressed, and a campaign against in vitro is underway. Governmental pseudo-intellectuals are trying to trample the free media. What about me? If the Russians suddenly landed on Mars, I wouldn't care too much either. Let's get started.
My life is weird. I go to work and so does my wife. My son has been at home for over a month now, playing on the computer and getting bored. He does home schooling. Initially it was hard, now we are used to it and we are doing better. Our twins give us a hard time because locked in four walls, they don’t have a vent for their energy. They methodically demolish walls and furniture. My wife and I pass by, exchanging information and pleasantries on the doorstep. We don’t see ourselves too often, cook very little and we have no time for anything. In fact, it is not much different from our ordinary life, that from “before”. Normally, we get up in the morning and the fun begins. Our son goes to school, one of us straight to work. The other one is looking after the twins. The one working in the morning dumpes the job after six hours and rushes home. Meanwhile, the second one picks up our boy from school and all that's left is a quick swap at the door. Whoever babysit in the morning goes to work. The evening shift ends around 23:00. Everyone is sleeping at home, so quickly to bed, because in the morning you have to get up briskly. And so for five days. Saturday is different, because we have to take your son to a Polish school, so an unlucky one, who works on a given weekend, always does the evening shift, no exceptions here. This life is simple. We spend a lot of time with the children, but we see each other only in passing. It's not easy, but I'm not complaining. I don't like to moan. Everyone who works and educates at the same time, and does not have the luxury of a grandmother around the corner, does the same. This lockdown the shop we work in is closed to the public, so we have less stress and we don't have to rush anywhere. In fact, no one has to rush anywhere now, and that's very good.
Almost a year ago, I remember as it was today, time suddenly slowed down. We all had to stay home, locked up. You could go out to do the necessary shopping. One person from the household. There were long lines in front of the shops, because everywhere special distancing rules were implemented and only a few people were allowed in at a time. In principle, there was no shortage of goods, although already a month earlier people started massive panic shopping. There was no flour and eggs for a short time, but there was never a shortage of toilet paper, which, for some strange reason turned out to be the most bought-out thing of all. I admit, we had our supplies. I have a trunk in my garage. A massive, wooden, almost a hundred-year-old chest that belonged to my wife's grandmother. It was a chest in which she had her dowry, that is, grandmother, not my wife. We turned it into a home storage room. Personally, I didn't really believe that there would be not enough food, but as a father of three I had to be on the safe side. I had so much stuff that we would have survived even if they closed all shops and forbade people to go out for three months. We went out shopping anyway, mainly my wife, to get fresh fruit, vegetables, sweets and alcohol. I will tell you what my day was like then, not so long, but yet centuries ago.
We get up in the morning. Girls wake us up. It is customary for my wife to go downstairs with them, and my son and I sleep a little longer. Then I go down, we drink coffee, and eat breakfast. After some time, our first-born nine-year-old is coming down, he eats something, and we generally do nothing. I mean, we live our lives slowly. In March 2020, my daughters are one year and nine months old, so it's no wonder that their habits dictate the schedule of our day. It's nap time around noon. The little ones are asleep. What about the rest? The son goes to his room to play on the computer. We have free time, so we go out to the garden, me with a beer, my wife with a glass of wine. We are talking and bathing in the sun, because the weather is fantastic. Then my wife reads a book and I take my usual nap. The children wake up, eat soup, and we drink our second coffee that day. We all go for a walk in the early afternoon. This is allowed as long as only one family is walking and everyone is careful not to come into contact with others. There aren't many people in the streets. Some walkers, buses almost empty, virtually no traffic. There is not much to do, because even the playgrounds are closed, so we only walk. We have a permanent route. Around the forest, and "to the tree", where we throw cones at each other and slowly go back home. We always enter from the back, through the garden. The children play and we cook dinner. Often it's some kind of pasta, and I must honestly admit that in all my life I haven't eaten as many prawns as I did then. We buy them from Aldi and I make spaghetti sauce. Half an onion, a clove of garlic, fry it in olive oil and add your prawns, two packets for a family like ours. I fry it for a while and add two tablespoons of red pesto. That's basically it. A little water from the pasta, which is boiling at this time, so that the sauce is not too dry, because the pasta likes to "suck it in". Finally, two tablespoons of sour cream, a little oregano, pepper and salt, cooked pasta to the sauce, stir, sprinkle some Parmesan, generously, serve and enjoy. A simple, quick and very tasty dish, satisfaction guaranteed. After the meal (all the children eat, the son does not eat prawns, and the girls, on the contrary, pick them from our plates with their fingers), a lazy evening. Then we put the toddlers to sleep, the big one is already computing at that time, and we have time to relax again. A beer or wine, we go outside. The silence is ringing in our ears, because we live almost in the forest, and it is still warm, you don't even need to wrap yourself in a blanket. And then we go to sleep, a peaceful rest to which you lie down with a smile because you know that in the morning you will wake up to an almost identical, calm and carefree day. It all took nearly three months before we were called to work, to prepare everything for “back to normal” time.
During these three beautiful months, time has stopped eventually, and we were able to stand next to it and see everything from a different angle. We were given ourselves as a gift, and we liked it. We discovered that it was possible to live differently, that we spent too much time working and left real life aside, racing faster and faster, until we got lost in the rush.
Time is all that matters. What we have here and now, as well as who we share it with. Each drop of time has its own meaning and each one counts, as they settle on our lives all the time, and every single one is so beautiful. They shine. It is a pity that we usually don’t see it.
The virus has opened my eyes to many things. It taught me a lot, just by slowing down my momentum, and took me back to the time when I was not afraid to think. Or maybe to when I could think, because my brain wasn't dull with everyday life. I am not happy with what has happened in the world, as nothing will ever be the same. I won't be the same either, and that's what makes me smile. Sometimes with bitter disbelief, but you always have to stumble while taking the first step. You cannot learn to walk otherwise.
Comments
Post a Comment