The D word

Death is becoming more visible, the word that was once hidden through metaphor and hushed tones is now the main item on the daily news.   I feel quite lucky that the daily death toll is still an abstract concept for me.   No one I know has yet been touched by the virus except for the restrictions on daily life that are affecting us all.  Some of my friends have had some sort of illness which may or may not have been the virus, but no one I know has yet been hospitalised.   For this I am grateful.

I had a small taste of what others whose loved ones are currently sick with it must be going through when my 86 year old uncle didn’t respond to my texts last week.  He was fine, he had simply run out of credit for his phone, and unusually for a man of his age, he doesn’t have a landline.   We are laughing about it now of course.  Its story about our tough as old boots, won’t take any help from anyone, fiercely independent, Uncle Terry.  I don’t want to change my view of him from that person to someone who is frail and vulnerable, and I’m glad that I don’t have to.

My view of human nature is changing though.  Every day there is another story of human kindness that makes me well up.  From people in the caring professions, the armies of volunteers that are helping out in their own neighbourhoods and beyond, but also the companies that are putting people before profit, at least temporarily.  There are now hotels that who are welcoming the homeless in and across their marble foyers, rather than chasing them away from the pavements around their doors.  The Michelin starred restaurant chefs who are now producing meals in containers for vulnerable people rather than intricate and beautifully presented dishes involving reductions, jus and heritage vegetables for diners with more money than appetite, served with a flourish by a waiter.   How many of those waiters and others who served our coffee in the morning our sandwich at lunchtime are now in need?

One of the small joys of this pandemic is seeing society wake up to what is important; people, our health, our relationships.   Is it a coincidence that the people who are the most important, the ones who we truly rely on to keep our lives and our society going all appear to be at the bottom of the earnings ladder.   Will this experience lead to a wider change?   I don’t suppose it will.   Whilst I sometimes believe in some sort of   universal justice, the opportunity to turn that particular injustice around is down to us.     Society has a short memory.    When we have eventually found a way to live with the virus without the daily death toll,  I don’t suppose we will remember that no one ever stood at their door, or  leaned out of their window every Thursday at 8pm to applaud and make noise for the bankers, the corporate bosses or the hedge fund managers.