The brain drain of inactivity is a real thing. And I admit to being inactive during the Covid-19 lockdown.
March 26 began with great intentions however, just like a New Year’s resolution, they didn’t last. Cobwebs are again gathering on the bike, the trainers have resettled back at the bottom of the pile and the Quinoa sits forlornly on the shelf.
That I can handle, but the things I have lost I cannot.
Early in the staycation I lost my keys. Not completely unusual but leaving them in the ignition of the car parked in the driveway only metres from the road was. Even worse was that I hadn’t driven anywhere for three days.
I also lost my Easter Eggs. One minute the packet was in my hand and the next it wasn’t. I do recall putting them in a cupboard – it was somewhat surprising that after a substantial (and frustrating) search, it turned out it was the medicine cupboard.
Similar was the loss of the salt. Turned out I had placed that in the potato draw.
Time is something else I have lost. Or more to the point, the routine of time or a timely routine.
When you have to be at a place, at a time, five days a week – you know when to get up to achieve that. When you don’t time has little meaning – with the Covid-19 exception of 1pm, Sunday – Friday.
I’ve also lost my eyebrows. And I’m not brave enough to attempt DIY.
Oh I must include my job – I lost that too.
I’ve lost patience with my bubble toddler more times than I care to admit. I have had to keep reminding myself she has temporarily lost her (preschool) friends and her routine and is probably pretty sick of me too.
Another thing to go was the ability to stop putting food into my mouth. Admittedly I wasn’t very good at it pre-lockdown and there probably won’t be any improvement post lockdown but for the last 30 days the restraint was lost.
Right now, as we eye lowering levels, I’m praying Peter Pan’s Lost Boys might help me find my marbles that have progressively disappeared over the past four weeks. Whether happy thoughts or hard, round symbols of sanity – the marbles have scattered to four corners and are well and truly lost.
But of all the things I have lost, a loved one is not one of them. My thoughts have continually been drawn to those who have lost a whanau member or friend during the lockdown.
To not be able to say goodbye, to celebrate a life or to honour a death, is unprecedented and unimaginable. And a true loss.
To all those people grieving, Kia Kaha.
