I’m thinking about friends and family.
I’m thinking about garden parties and those days where someone pops over for an hour but ends up staying all day.
I’m looking forward to meeting all the new babies and smelling their heads.
I’m learning a new version of life.
I’m sorry to the people doing the hardest job, in the toughest of conditions. It’s not right. I didn’t vote for this.
I’m hoping that the sense of community I see all around me isn’t fleeting and will outlive the dark days.
I’m grateful, constantly.
I’m thinking about the people we’ve lost and what the world will look like without them in it, when the doors are finally open again.
I long for a day on the beach with my babies, getting sand under our feet and in our picnic.
I’m remembering life on the other side of the garden gate.
I’m educating myself and the children on how we can do better for others.
I’m angry at people who say now isn’t a time for politics – if not now, when?
I’m heartbroken for the people locked in their homes in a state of fear or despair, or hunger.
I’m enjoying the quiet and calm with my family.I’m realising what we don’t need in our lives.
I’m adjusting daily.
I worry everytime my dude leaves the house.
I’m celebrating the small things; things I previously overlooked.
I’m enthusiastic about changing the way we live for the better.
I’m encouraging the children to question everything.
I’m nervous about the future.
I’m happy (it feels wrong to say that).
I’m looking to the sky.
I’m not missing the greed and gluttony that was seeping into our lives, bit by bit.
I am, however, missing you. But I know we’ll see each other soon….some sunny day.