While we had suspected for a few weeks that tomorrow would not bring the widescale lifting of restrictions promised back in late summer, there is still a significant shift in what we should or shouldn’t do. None of us are too surprised that everything was dropped and life resumed as per pre-pandemic, especially at a time when our local hospital is under severe pressure because of a Covid outbreak affecting two wards.
So like with all the other announcements, we still have to sit back and be sensible with the new freedoms that have come our way. The reopening of nightclubs (albeit with some mask choreography ), longer pub hours, and the lifting of attendance limits at weddings, religious ceremonies and sports events offer some semblance of what life was like back when we never knew it could be impacted as much.
The blue skies that visited these shores over the past week have been a bit of a teaser — a gift to us all in contrast preparation for the darkness of winter that lies ahead. In ten days time, the clocks will be going back and we will be plunged headlong into the dark mornings and the dark evenings until the winter solstice slowly swings us back to longer days again.
This will be our third winter that we approach with concern, even if the winter of 2019 was one where we did not know the extent of the threat that emanated that December. But, although there are still signs of increasing numbers of new cases, there are many positives. This time last year, we did not have the vaccines approved, yet now millions of us have had one, two or three shots, depending on our age.
It has been a time of sadness too, not just in our local communities and families, but in the wider social circle. Over the past few weeks, we have lost valued musicians, poets, writers. People whose talents translated into verse and song for us all to enjoy; stanzas and tunes scribbled down not just for the time they lived in, but for all eternity.
All part of the great canon of Irish culture, all gone in an instant; at a time when we need the magic of music and song and conversation and camaraderie to give us a sense of ourselves and reinforce the strength that will get us through all of this.
We have lost family members, the grief of which is known only to ourselves. Every day, there is hurt in our communities; hurt that doesn’t get a Late Late special, but hurt none the same.
There has been a mourning going on all through this pandemic; not just for those who are bereaved, but in the wider population where there is a grief for a passing of a way of living. A mode of behaviour that existed pre-Covid and which is ever unlikely ro revert to how it was. We are still in shock at the passing of that too, and this is a mourning that is rarely appreciated.
But in all grief, there is strength and forbearance. There is a richness of emotion that comes to the fore, and so it will be with this.
By the time we reach out to wind the clock forward in Spring, we should have a clearer idea of where we are headed.
For those impacted by the closures, there is sympathy. The date of tomorrow had long been held as the day when everything would go back to normal, but this is not the case. The rules around mask wearing and presentation of Covid certs will be retained and revisited in late February when we should be over the worst of the winter; the return to the office space for those who have been working from home has slowed pace again too.
But we have come this far, and we are well able for the rest of the journey. To complete it, we need to be cognisant of the social responsibility we all need to play our part in stopping the spread. Mind yourselves.
