The Grey Gelding — A joyful connection

Sunday, the eighteenth COVID blog.

Things are beginning to feel a little different, and life is slowly returning in a new way.

This week has been the first week of my school holidays and has mostly consisted of catching up with my family and friends. Something I intend to do throughout the summer. I count myself incredibly lucky to have an amazing bunch of friends and I have missed them.

It really has been an emotional rollercoaster this week. I cried when I saw my friend whom I haven’t seen since March, a friend who has made me laugh and sob through texts and phone calls during lockdown. Emotionally, we share the same soul and so tears were not unexpected, I really had missed her.

I met friends for a walk and coffee along the seafront which is a short drive away from where I live. We walked and talked and it finally felt like summer. The seafront wasn’t busy, it felt easy and safe.

A word we do not normally associate when meeting our friends is ‘safe’ this is the adjective we should always feel with our pals, we choose each other because we make the other feel protected. In this new normal ‘safe’ has a changed connotation and in all aspects we now need to consider this thought.

My normal routine; car keys, purse, phone, has been joined for some time now by hand sanitiser and mask. I began wearing a mask a little while ago in shops before it became compulsory, I believe this should have happened well before the time frame we were given by the government. This virus has weakened, due to lockdown and the season, but it has ‘not’ gone away.

My Daughters and I have been discussing our safe ‘bubble’ my arms have been aching to finally hold my world. We tell each other all the time that we love one another but I have missed holding them and my little ones.

On Wednesday I made an impromptu visit to my eldest daughter Claire, who along with her husband has been working from home. My Grandchildren were still in school and I arrived in time to collect them along with Claire.

Having discussed our ‘safe bubble’ we decided it would be safe to hug outside in the garden. I still have not hugged either of my Daughters, we agreed it would only be fair to hug each other when we three are all together. We have always been an equal trio and I love them equally, this is will be no exception.

My Grandchildren are a different matter. Oliver is six, he is very loving, he reminds me of Christopher Robin he is beautiful with soft blonde hair and although he can be boisterous he can also be measured. Before lockdown he would often snuggle voluntarily and say “I love you Grandma”and then proceed to tell me about his friends and school, superheroes and Pokemon, which at six years old is everything.

Elizabeth is very different, she is four, she has huge enchanting brown eyes, crazy hair and although she is as cute as a button, she is an absolute ‘caution’ this word completes her.
My Daughters, my Mum (their Grandmother) and I, read a series of books in which one of the main characters ‘Emily’ when growing up, was referred to as a ‘caution’ wild and free and full of mischief. Their names both start with the same letter, enough said I think.

So when we met them from school I expected Oliver to be the one who would be the most affectionate but it was Elizabeth, she simply took my hand and said “Grandma, we can hug outside now.”

The warmth of her tiny hand in mine filled my eyes with tears, tears that had been waiting to fall. I have hidden so many tears behind my sunglasses this week, of both sadness and joy.

She did not let go until we arrived home.

Once we were in the garden it was again Elizabeth who asked for a hug, it was everything I expected it to be. Quick, but beautiful, a ‘caution’ of loveliness.

Oliver’s was gentle, a little longer and with a Pokemon explanation of his day. In both of these wonderful and special moments, I wept.

With my girls it will be different, adult emotions and understanding. We are all so similar yet individual, they are and will always be, my breath.

I have twice crossed unexpected paths in recent weeks, paths I believe I have been sent to cross. Both of which have reminded me that as human beings we are constantly learning, that despite how difficult everything has been we all seemed to have learned something about ourselves during this time.

Instead of jogging at the end of this week, I walked my usual route. I will begin running again tomorrow, I have lost a bit of enthusiasm which seems to have been a common theme amongst friends too but I feel like it’s returning as I am no longer worrying about work for a while and have time.

On my walking/running route there is a field of ponies and they have been noticeably missing since lockdown, despite the signs of “Do Not Touch The Horses’” that appeared at the start of the one hour exercise we were allowed at the beginning of the pandemic.

As I walked along the track I saw the familiar sight of the pony I always talk to, he is handsome and majestic and I tell him so each time we meet. He slowly walked towards me and he seemed to look into my very soul.

I cried, I think because it felt, as if in that one moment, he epitomised the world gradually beginning again.

As my wings finally stretch and uncurl, next week I embark on a little adventure, not the one I had planned, this one is closer to home with a literary and historical feel, but it means I can finally begin to flutter.

Stay Safe,

Joy 🦋 xxx