“To what remains,

It seems like the world is crashing and burning at our feet; like everything that we once knew has disappeared in the blink of an eye and we have all learned a new meaning of “normal” overnight. As much as I complain about it, I never expected to be in the middle of a regular Thursday at school and be told we won’t be coming back and nobody knows for how long. And social media is great to stay in contact with people, yet I can’t help but to think that it’s not the same as being outside, sitting on the grass with my friends. Lockdown is even more difficult when I can see my grandparents’ house from my window but we can’t go and visit them.

Amidst the madness, however, I’ve started to notice that not everything has changed. And so I’m writing this – a love letter to what remains, to the things that continue to bring a sense of normality to life.

To the grass that still grows green, and to the sun that rises while oblivious to the situation, to the birds that sing in the morning and wake me far too early for my sleep schedule, to the taste of my first sip of coffee in the morning, to the laundry that still needs to be dried and the dishes that still needs to be washed, to my happy songs and sad songs that still have the same affect, to the clouds above that hold the same rain they always have, and to that rain that continues to fall, to the reality TV shows that are still so bad they’re good, and to each new page I turn to in my novels and notebooks, to the extra hour of brightness that has suddenly appeared to bring “a grand stretch in the evenings”. Each and every one carries with it a satisfying sense of structure because it has always been there and always will, and that is such a comforting thought in a time like this.

I ask that you continue to bring solace to everyone who is searching for it right now, because everyone seems to be feeling somewhat lost. Bring it to the person sitting alone in their bedroom, to the person who is struggling being in the same household as their family, to the person who needs a routine to feel productive, to the person who is buying shopping for their elderly neighbour, to the person who has lost their job, to the person who continues to work on the front line, and to the person reading this. I ask that you remind each and every person that you remain, and that the darkest times will always end and the sun will rise once more.

With love,

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