This has been the worst year of my life

 This has been the worst year of my life.

Honestly, I believe it has. Because despite my many lived experiences of sadness, anger, grief , loss. this year has pushed me further and further into deep dark bottomless black holes than I can ever remember ,  I can no longer see the surface let alone the horizon. 

It is twelve long months since Boris Johnson first advised the nation to work from home if possible and began the process that was to lead to full lockdown on March 23rd.  I had no idea of what lay ahead or the devastation that would be left behind.

I had no idea that a year later I would be looking back on months of nothingness, months of empty time, months of heartbreak and anguish , time vanished into dust.

Yet another surreal Mothers Day. Silent tears behind the smiles. A day of true gratitude and appreciation for what I do have, the company of my wonderful daughter and my husband, doing constant battle with the anguish and heartbreak for those I cannot see, the deep abiding sadness for the lost times.  

Will we ever" do this properly" again?  Who knows. In theory on March 29th the rule of 6 will return. On April 12 th overnight stays return. By mid May society can, in theory, mingle inside, albeit with Covid restrictions. There is a "roadmap" but the UK has been round in circles for so long now I  suspect finding our way out is going not straightforward. 

I cannot find the energy to summon up hope and optimism .  Too many broken promises. Too much false hope. Too many rainbows only for storms to break over us again.

My once close relationship with some of my beloved family , especially some of my darling granddaughters, has frayed and worn down and I fear it can never be repaired.

Ironically my bond with those loved ones far away may be less effected than those close by.  Distance, for once, has been a silver lining. We are used to gaps in time. When we can cover the miles I hope and pray we will simply pick up where we left off as we have always done. 

For those who live nearer I have found this year has been far more complex. I could have enjoyed a walk with a grandchild, one to one, or  shared a walk with a parent and a  pre schooler, both are legal, but this has never happened. 

Originally I believed this was a wise strategy for all of us, the infection rate was sky high after Xmas but now it is March and spring , with low infection rates once more. The world is returning to normal, the schools are back and the parks are full of laughter.

 I have nothing but silence. For with the return to school came the loss of Zoom calls, the calls to grandma a casualty of a now busy life I am no longer part of. 

Good friends tell me tales of lovely afternoon walks with their grandchildren and it breaks my heart. Their families have embraced the vaccine protection it gives to us oldies and welcomed them back into their lives.

Of course they take care, meeting outside and social distancing, but this to me is small price to pay for being truly with my grandkids. I miss them soo much. 

These covid rules are like speed limits to my mind. Most people, including me, break them although we take great care to hurt no one, including ourselves, and if we get caught, so be it.    

It has been a salutary ,solitary, sad learning curve to realise that as my granddaughters lives have moved on I have been left stranded behind.  

In my rationale moments I know it is time pressures rather than anything personal , yet my heart is now stretched to breaking point as the weeks give way to months.   

Mothers Day was made bearable by my wonderful daughter who made so much effort. My youngest son has also been supportive and a great help.  The others called, of course, and there was a thoughtful, expensive, present. I know I am loved. 

I know I am lucky. I suspect too I am not the only one to realise that as this year has gone on my perception of my role in my own family and theirs of me are so very different. 

Truth be told, I believed I mattered much more than I do. Maybe this is a necessary lesson. yet it has been a desperately hard one.

My husband in his quiet loving way has given me a shoulder to cry on, literally. Without him and absolutely without my daughter I would have given up.

I have had a wonderful life. I retired early to go travelling and enjoy my grandchildren. I have had a grand time. Now travelling is off limits and since I discovered I have collapsed discs in my neck backpacking is a thing of the past.  My grandchildren, the heart of my post work world, have slowly but surely now faded into sepia. 

What lies ahead will be as much unchartered territory and the Covid year.  Of course I will see my grandchildren again once the world reopens, but it will never be as it was. Weekends and school holidays of brief encounters cannot make up for lost time and missed opportunities. It is what it is. Unconditional love , always.  I will learn to accept that life cannot be how it was or how I want it to be and live what it will  become.  

I have to carry on discovering  a whole new world , not because the world is different but because my world as I knew it is. 

This is the most personal entry for a long time because I have been scared of being angry. No more.

I am angry with this government for (ab)using emergency powers for a whole year and forcing me to live in a police state. Controlling my liberty in a way unthinkable in a modern democracy.

I am angry with the corruption, the blatant misuse of trust by politicians lining their own pockets. 

I am angry that this inefficiency has left the country with no safety nets bar a nationalist, jingoistic,  vaccine rollout against Covid. I am delighted to have the vaccine but the international and internal politics of supply and demand are horrifying.

I am angry that children have missed out on education, students on further and higher education. 

I am angry that people have lost jobs.

I am angry for the lonely, the depressed, the bereaved, those who have lost the will to live.

I am angry that people are dying of cancer and preventable diseases because the NHS is overwhelmed and underfunded whilst the much lauded Nightingale hospitals lurk empty and unused.

I am angry that we are not a united society , we are divided by the haves and the have nots more than ever. 

I am angry for myself that my cherished family unity has been broken by this long lonely year. 

I am angry that a year down the line I cannot see a future. My life as it was has disappeared and there is no way back. 

As Covid begins to subside and a new everyday takes shape,  |I see  no final destination, no happily ever after  ending.  TI have to summon up the energy to carry on through whatever lies ahead.  

So, yes, I can honestly say, this has been the worst twelve months of my life.