I’m sat at my desk, looking out the window. Listening to radio2, the magnolia tree is in full bloom, the bins have been put out for collection as it’s Friday, the starling is making a nest. Like any normal Friday.
Except it’s far from normal.
Nothing is normal anymore.
This week our world changed. Forever. In so many ways.
It’s 20th March and I’ve sent my year 11 daughter in for her last day in school. To say goodbye to teachers and friends she may never see again. GCSEs have been cancelled, her future seems very uncertain.
My youngest is 13 next weekend. For the last 5 years we have been to the same restaurant for her birthday dinner. Not this year. She has just got her sparkle and sense of fun back after a very hard 2019 and now faces months of being stuck at home.
My husband has worked crazy hours in the last week, so much stress is it making him ill. He is working hard to ensure that as of Monday, the people that need to keep this country running are able to. No amount of leadership training can prepare you for something like this.
I should be racing around getting ready for work. I am sat at my desk because all my work has been cancelled. I’m sat at my desk trying to build up my online businesses because school trips won’t be a priority for schools for many, many months to come.
I think this has been the most stressful, weirdest weeks of my life.
I’ve felt a strange sense of calm all week. We have had a lot of trauma, upset and upheaval in our family over the years. I have learnt to live with sudden trauma, so much so that it kind of glides over me, I can cope with a lot things.
But not this.
With Coronavirus rampaging through the world we are having to make really difficult decisions. When it started in China earlier in the year, I don’t think anyone imagined the affect it would have on our daily lives in the UK. We are told to stay at home as much as we can, no to socialise, not to see friends, to work from home. And then last night the decision was taken to close the schools. On Monday they will only be open for those children whose parents are key workers and are critical to the fight against this disease.
I have cried and cried this morning. Sobbed for my big girl and her disappointment. Sobbed for my little girl and everything she won’t get to experience this year. Sobbed for my husband and the risks he is taking to keep other people safe.
Because today we all changed forever.
