Nearly a year in a new captivity, a new world of masks, home learning and fear of getting close.
A year of extremes.
A year that screens became the window to the world.
A year of superheroes in blue.
A year that saw my children grow out of their shoes and I didn’t need to replace them.
A year of insomnia and stars I didn’t know existed, early morning breath and bird song, dogs racing through discarded masks and gloves.
A year where the doorstep and the sky outside felt too big.
A year we are still here, lucky to continue, reluctant to move forward for fear of leaving behind that which we’ve lost.
Hey you, the Health care worker. (Please feel free to send this to someone who might need this today).
Hey you with the sad face.
I see you.
Long hours without end.
I’d love to make you a cup of tea and make you laugh.
But I can’t so here I go again outside my front door and send you angel hugs and rainbows.
Tonight up and down the whole of the United Kingdom, we all came out of our doors and showed our love and appreciation for the people who are caring for us during this awful time.
Up and down our road and in the silence of Swansea right now I heard claps and shouts of well done. It was the most incredible sound.
We all clapped for the people who put their lives at risk on a daily basis, the doctors, nurses and surgeons and people of the NHS.
For the porters, the health care workers, the carers, the nursing home attendants, the ambulance drivers to the admins, the receptionists and the cleaners.
For the supermarket checkout people, the shelf stackers, the lorry drivers, the people we see every day that take no credit at all as it is their job.
We clap for you all and we know your names tonight.