It’s 7 am on a Tuesday morning, I roll over half asleep, my hand searching for my phone. Trying to wake up, I focus on the screen. I open the news app and check to see how many more cases of this enemy there are. How many more victims has it taken from us. How many more restrictions we must live with.
I get out of bed and get on with my day with the children. It seems I’ve forgotten what’s happening outside my walls. I’m fortunate enough to not personally feel the brute force of this virus. We school, we play, we are just doing life… then my phone ‘pings’. I pick it up unaware and suddenly I’m brought back to reality again with another announcement from the Prime Minister, or President or a news breaking story. I sit down slowly, engulfed with another article. Another statistic, another plan for action. My children calling my name for attention is drowned out by the photographs I’m seeing of desolate streets in New York City and Europe, the hustle and bustle of the major airports look like a ghost town.
‘Mum, mummmmmy’ snaps me out of the chill I feel running down my spine. Surely this isn’t for real. It feels like I’m looking at photographs and video footage from a apocalyptic movie, not real life.
I get on with my day. We get ready for soccer. I hear another ‘ping,’ it’s the coach, explaining soccer us been cancelled. I have to sit down and explain to my son why this is the way it is for the next little while. He seems fine. I’m happy it hasn’t worried him. Now onto the next thing, dinner, baths, stories and Bible, we pray, we pray for our land, for the drought, for our family and friends and the homeless, poor and sick. This time we add something new into our prayers… we pray that Corona Virus will stop.
‘Mummy what’s the Corona Virus?’
I look to James, I think, I speak calmly. I explain as best as I can…
‘It’s like a cold or flu darling, but it can effect people with low immunity very harshly or the elderly. We need to try our best to keep distance to help the virus to die out.’
Seems like a good enough explanation, the children understand at least to this level. We pray, we tuck them into bed and come back downstairs. James flicks the TV on. He’s watching a documentary about the virus. Trying to become as knowledgeable as he can on the subject. I’m glued to my phone, reading statistics. Reading Facebook updates and statuses. A mutual friend shares a light hearted thought, another shares a funny meme. I scroll on, I then read another status- a sobering one. A warning. I read through the comments, I write some words of comfort. ‘Click’ I send it through and read it. Nope, it doesn’t sound genuine enough, ‘click,’ I edit it and change words around. There, that’s better. That should bring light to the situation. That should help stop the fear. I type the words as if I’m bold and brave as I sit behind my keyboard. Thinking I’m slowly saving the world, one ‘like’ and positive comment at a time.
James turns the channel over, it’s our latest news report. The crowds of people are lined up to shop. To stock up their pantries. Thinking only the worst. We watch women literally fighting over toilet paper. Empty aisles and shelves are all that’s left for the anchor woman to report on. She stands in front of where the flour and rice would be. It’s all bare- it’s like the Boxing Day sales have come to the local supermarket.
I’ve been ok up to this point. I’m doing my bit, I’m keeping my family at a distance and safe and clean and writing all the feel good social media comments. But now, now I feel a pressure in my chest, I feel that brave keyboard warrior has left. I look over to my husband. ‘ I wasn’t worried.’ I said, ‘I wasn’t worried at all, but now I am, for food.’
My thoughts escalate quickly, I realise, it’s not pay week. We can’t get to the shops this week. We can’t stock up for this ‘lockdown.’ We have six mouths to feed, six bums to wipe, what do we do?
The next morning James races up to the shops to stock up on a few non perishables. An employee approaches the area, ‘Only one pack of toilet paper mate.’ James smiles, takes one six pack while watching the single guy next to him take the last twenty four pack.
He comes home and explains how eerie it feels. People walking around aimlessly trying to figure out what to cook with nothing left. The opening hours are now shorter, he walked past a woman wearing a mask, another shopping in gloves. Later I questioned ‘should you be doing this? Should we be following these ideas?’
The next day I’m driving with the kids. My hand sanitiser is making a ‘tap, tap’ sound as I drive us to the park. It now sits in the cup holder. It’s been promoted from my hand bag. Ready for wherever we go. It’s become second nature now. We stop at the traffic lights. A man pulls up next to us, wearing a mask. We all stare. I tell the kids to just smile and look away. As we drive on Noah asks ‘why is he wearing a mask?’ I remind him of the virus. They seem to forget and are only reminded again when we get back to the car and I’m even more pedantic about using the sanitiser than usual. Will the children catch onto this uncertainty I’m feeling? After playing at the park, they wait while I grab my trusty hand sanitiser, and pump it onto their little hands. As they rub their hands together Scarlet lets out an ‘ohhhhh,’ followed by blowing air on her hands. I ask her ‘what’s wrong?’ She explains she must of scratched herself, ‘the sanitiser is killing germs and it stings.’
That night after our routine with the children we come backdown stairs to what seems like our new routine. Check the news, search for the latest information, the latest statistics. It’s the Prime Minister on channel 9. Addressing our nation. He’s firm, he’s disappointed and he says very clearly to ‘stop it, stop the hoarding, it’s unAustralian.’ He then reminds us that if we do go into lock down we will still have food. The shops will still be open and when this is all over. Our nation will continue under strict rations until our shelves are full again. He estimates about six months.
I shake my head. I realised I felt that fear, I felt that anxiousness. I read into it. I saw those shelves bare and I thought we had to go and stock up. Once I heard these words from Scott Morrison I was jolted back to a right thinking.
Do I fear this virus? Do I just expect the worst? Do I worry myself sick? Will we be the next to contract it?
I make a choice, I will not live in fear. There is one greater than this virus. There is one who can annihilate this enemy. There is one that says, “Put your trust in Me.”
I choose to be wise and act accordingly. To be kind to all people and show consideration. I choose to not be afraid but stand firm in the face of adversity. I choose not to run with hysteria but calmly face this as it comes.
I stop. I pause. That’s enough. That’s enough worry, that’s enough what if’s, that’s enough what do we do? I live in hope.
Stay safe, stay healthy, stay Kind,