Thank you 201 #COVID 19

These can be difficult days. The ones where you remember.

Sprigs of shamrock pinned to your best jumper. Real stuff. Dirty, from the garden. Or some random hedge.When all you really wanted was a loud rosette with a golden harp and three pleats of orange that would ruffle in the wind as it proudly proclaimed your pride in the national day. Not the lump of moss like stuff that looked nothing like any shamrock you’d ever drawn. But all was right with the world.

You’d get a day off Lent. You might be allowed the thrill of a Dairy Milk. On that one day in those long six weeks off sweets. You’d swear we had cupboards full of sweets the rest of the year. That the drawers and the presses were stuffed full of sugary snacks you could dip into whenever you wanted. Me arse. But the St Patrick’s Day chocolate. That’d melt in your mouth. and all was right with the world.

And after dinner. Green jelly, ice cream and peaches. A little Irish flag served in a wee bowl that you thought was crystal. The jelly would sparkle in the glass. And the ice cream would melt quicker than you could eat it. Because even though it was probably only ten degrees, the warmth in the place spoke of the coming Spring. And all was right with the world.

There were five pints of Guinness in The Palace Bar before taking a mad notion to hitch West. And ending up in a pub in Tooreen at 11 at night where there was no traffic and not a chance of making it the last 18 miles home. you’d get a bit anxious and make a quick call home with your only 20p. And half an hour later your Dad would rock up. And buy you a hot whiskey in the only pub in the village. Where there’d be one man with a guitar and a drum kit. And even though your Dad was a bit annoyed with you, he wouldn’t say anything. Just make sure you were warm and safe. And all was right with the world.

And another day in The Palace. When the sun was shining and you’d skipped out early from the parade to be the first in. To claim a corner in the back room before the hordes came in. In your lilac dress and a cardigan and Alice who had to leave early and Joanna from England with her Irish bones and her curly hair and Tracey from Adelaide with her Irish name and her strawberry blonde hair and the entire black haired Cassidy family from Ballymote and Carmel Clarke once from Tuam. And you sang songs even though everyone knows there is no singing in The Palace Bar. And made promises to reconvene in that place on that date in ten or twenty years time. Promises you didn’t keep but in that place and at that time you meant to. And all was right with the world.

And the ones when you were away. When a card would arrive that’d make you smile. With a folded flag or a pin flag that you could wear on your lapel. Not a rosette. Something classier and very tiny. And all was right with the world.

And all the mornings you’d be in the shower. And the words of Hail Glorious Saint Patrick would sweep into your memory and you’d start humming. And then singing. And it’d morph into Danny Boy as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. And then you found The Muppets and shared that with the world. And all was right. Then.

Or the ones in Williamstown. With Claire who has her own reasons for remembering this day. When you end up in the welcoming home of someone you’ve briefly met through the theatre. And all is right with the world.

And then there’s this one. When you go to work and there aren’t many people there. Where faces are pale and perhaps scared looking. Where there’s a constant sense of surrealism in the air and an unspoken sense of dread in your stomach. Where you wonder how you’ve found yourself in this place at this time. And you’re moving the few who are there further away from each other. With a show of confidence that you don’t really feel. There are moments that overwhelm you and you spend too much time checking news sites.

So you share The Muppets with your workmates. And you do your job and come home to set your desk up there. And you make and receive a couple of calls. And drink a glass or two of wine. And watch more news.

You don’t know what will happen. In the coming weeks, the coming months. But you know this.

There will be laughter. There will be sadness. There will be challenges. There will be fun. There will be games to play and songs to sing. There will be birds singing and lambs frolicking. Flowers will grow and rivers will run. Waves will break on the shores and people will live and love and dance and die.

There will be books to read and books to write. There will be selfish acts and kindness. But mostly there will be time.

Time to stop. To listen. To talk. To learn. To be in your place and of your place. To be with yourself and to know yourself. To be better than you have been. To remember. That all will be all right with the world.

And for this, if for nothing else, I say thanks, COVID 19.