Déjà Vu
Tags: Family, Covid 19, Wartime Memories, Isolation

It’s 1959…

I’m sitting on my bed painting my nails, waiting for an ambulance to take me to hospital. I’m in labour and I am alone…. My husband’s gone off to work…. I have little idea what lies ahead for me…. which hospital I’ll be going to or who will be my midwife. Standard in those days…. this was untrod territory.

It’s 1962….

I’m pregnant with my second child and have moments of mild panic, wondering if I can go through childbirth again…. whilst realising that I have no choice.

I can liken that experience to today. When we first went into “Lockdown”, I was surprisingly relaxed about it…. the weather was lovely …..I was sipping Pimms in my garden, as if I was on holiday. Slowly realisation crept in….I couldn’t see my family…. I missed hugging them….

I had to learn how to wear a mask and glasses together without fogging up, how to negotiate Zoom meetings and how to shop online.

Things had radically changed, but we were all in it together…. clapping the NHS…. helping one another…. slowly we got through it….well we thought we had…something to feel proud about with hindsight…. but then we realised that it was far from over and in fact we were slowly going backwards.

This time we know what’s coming, but it’ll be harder in winter time…. there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. People are fed up…. almost rebellious….different factions are forming…. north versus south, and Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland slowly going their own ways. The mood has definitely changed, people are confused and unsure of what is permitted, they’ve had enough of restrictions.

This is isolation, unlike my wartime experiences when togetherness was emphasised. I’ve been listening to the lyrics of some popular wartime songs, where this unity is stressed : ‘You’ll find them all, doing the Lambeth Walk’, ‘Come let me hold your hand dear’, and ’ come and have a drink or two.’ All activities banned for us now. Then people danced together, crowded into the pubs, nationalism bound everyone together, and in spite of everything we were sure we were in the right and we would win. The lyrics were optimistic too: ‘Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile’, ‘Keep right on to the end of the road’, and sure of victory, ‘we’re going to hang out our washing on the Siegfried Line!’ All the radio broadcasts were positive, the message was of battling on towards our winning goal. It was censored, but it definitely shielded us from knowing the full horrors and created a stoic atmosphere. We soldiered on, unlike now, when our daily bulletins spell out doom and gloom, in a confusing situation that seems to be never ending.

Recently, my granddaughter had her thirtieth birthday, no large celebration was allowed, instead she had lots of small gatherings, one was with me. It was joyous, a delicious breakfast held outside wearing our coats, eating scrumptious food and enjoying great company. We pretended we were in a ski resort, it certainly was cold enough, but I felt a warmth, I was glowing inside. As usual, when it was time to say goodbye, I found it difficult not being able to hug my family, it feels so unnatural…. It’s simply soul destroying.

Now I’m lying here in bed, digesting the fact that just I was finding it impossible to summon up any optimism, there had been an announcement, a Covid vaccine had been tested and approved! How amazing to have been able to produce this in such a short space of time. Hopefully this will mean that I will soon be allowed to visit my special son once more. Being unable to, creates a pain inside me that is beyond physical, it’s a deep chasm of intolerable agony.

As I snuggle back under my duvet, I luxuriate in thoughts of normality returned, holding a loved one’s hand and sharing a comforting hug. I drift away surrounded by pink candyfloss and fluffy white clouds. Sheer bliss. Stay safe everyone.