The longest day of the year


Today is the Summer Solstice. It is the longest day of the year. It is the longest day of the year in a year which has seemed to be the longest in my life. I’m having a very hard time handling 2020 so far…and I don’t see it getting much better, to be very blunt.

All across Ireland, restrictions are being lifted. The majority of people are out shopping (sans masks, by the way), anxiously awaiting for the hair salons and pubs to reopen, planning their first trip outside of their own county, and acting as if COVID19 is all in the past. And frankly, to listen to the government of the day, you wouldn’t blame people for thinking it’s in the past.

COVID19 is not in the past. 

I’m having a real struggle emotionally the last couple of weeks as I see the world around me – well, the world outside of my house, that is – return to normal. Within my house, nothing has changed. The same 24/7 nursing care is provided to my fragile son by me, except now without even the few hours break that school had given me a few days a week.

I am exhausted.
I am burnt out.
I am worried.
I am lonely.
And I don’t want it to be this way anymore.

It’s the Summer Solstice. The days will now start to draw in, more darkness each night. I actually find that easier to deal with when housebound. Seeing the lovely sunny days which we can’t go out and enjoy beyond our own gates is like a dangling carrot never to be eaten. So, that’s me, welcoming the darkening of the days to come.

It’s the darkening in my spirit that I am not happy about.

And please, don’t tell me to try mindfulness or yoga or have more gratitude. I’m a counselor by trade. I know all about those things. I’m a full time, lone parent carer in reality. You likely don’t know about those things if you’re suggesting mindfulness.

I’m to the point now where I’ve actually debated breaking the invisible safety seal across our front gate, forgetting the advice that it’s safest to remain at home. It would be reprehensible of me to gamble with Brendan Bjorn’s life that way, but what of my own life? For myself, I often don’t care anymore. What I do care about is if I was to get seriously ill and my boys became orphans. God only knows what would happen to them, especially Brendan Bjorn.

So, the invisible safety seal remains…for now…for as long as I can tolerate it.

I will wait and watch to decide about school in September for both of the boys. My decision to send one or both of them back to school depends on how the rates of infection in the community are at that time and what safety precautions both of their schools will be implementing. Right now, I’m desperately hoping school can happen safely for both of them. A few more months of this total isolation.

A few more months. I hope that’s all it will be…


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