A Message of Kindness

A Message of Kindness

Whilst sitting at my kitchen table this morning, half blinded by the sun creeping through the blinds and partially obscuring my laptop screen, I was listening to Five Live’s Nicky Campbell and Rachel Burden.  Mr. Motivator had been invited onto the programme to encourage those who have been told to remain indoors due to Covid19, to stay active.

Trying to concentrate on my inbox, where I was blind copying email addresses into a message cancelling a sustainable fashion event which was due to be held this Saturday, I glanced over at the radio, marvelling how, in just a few short days, the radio output had changed beyond all recognition.

The morning’s output had been one continuous flow of Coronavirus information, experts, opinions, those caught up in it, those concerned about it, those broadcasters working from home as a result of health problems themselves and Mr. Motivator rallying the people into staying positive and keeping moving.  It was one of those freeze-frame moments you see in an action movie.  A very tiny part of me wanted the normality of the Brexit debate as opposed to this.

However, our public broadcasters step up in this instance, pulling out all the stops to ensure the general public can be as informed as possible about the ever-changing landscape.  Some people have said to me they switch off the news now because they find it depressing. As a person who listens to the radio, if possible, all day, every day, I would say my intake of information has increased more than ever, such is my appetite for being as informed as possible to enable me to make the right decisions for myself and my family.

Like millions of others across the world, this morning I received news that one of my contracts was to end with immediate effect, as my company supplies a service to a hospitality venue, which will remain closed now for the foreseeable future.  Yes, this is worrying for me when I think about the financial knock-on effect of how I will balance the financial books as a single parent of three teenagers and what that means in terms of my priorities, although I am also a realist and appreciate I am not alone in this.

There have been messages of hope though, intertwined with the manic videos popping up on my feed of people grabbing the last of the loo rolls, or urgent local Facebook pleas for formula milk and nappies for babies. I have tried not to let the worst of humanity appear like a What’s App notification from the group you wish to unfollow. Because for all the negative, there is far more positive happening in the world, but in times like these – a global pandemic – it is always the bad news which spreads the fastest.

Independent Cinema where contract was lost due to Covid19

I had scheduled a call with a colleague, who is Italian, with family in lock down in Italy. She’s based in London and we had arranged a phone call to catch up on work-related topics. The mood started low as we caught up on respective situations, the Covid19 fallout etc.  But then I was assured that the Italian government were pulling out the stops for their countryfolk and that they would not let the economy take a total nosedive. At this point I said to myself that I would need to remain positive, to get through these very unsteady waters, unscathed. 

I’d heard my phone send a notification through while I was on the phone with my colleague.  When the phone call finished, I looked at the message, which was from my upstairs neighbour. She simply stated that her and her partner were there for me if I needed anything at all. That was it. A simple, straight to the point, message of kindness.  I read the message a couple of times and it pinged again.  It was my neighbour’s partner, reiterating the message. 

I frantically replied to both, gushing with heart emojis at their selfless messages, enthusiastically jumping at the opportunity to create a “Neighbours” What’s App group, by adding the numbers of other neighbours and (shamelessly) adding a profile photo of the opening theme tune of Neighbours circa 1989.

I sat back down at the table, poised with my fingers above the keyboard as though a pianist about to begin a concerto, when I sat back in the chair and considered how quickly people get things done when they need to.  

I thought back to the day when I moved into this property; a Victorian conversion of four flats.  We all more-or-less moved in at the same time, once the owners had renovated each flat. We have all lived separate lives under the same roof since 2017.  We get by in our own way, liaising over parking spaces on the drive, of which there are three although we have five cars between us.  Sometimes we buzz each other’s flats and ask if we can move cars around. 

Bin collection and recycling is usually a little more haphazard.  We don’t have a rota for putting them out or bringing them back in (although I’ve thought about it at times when it feels as though it’s always me) but somehow between all of us we manage to get it done. 

There was the time we all congregated late at night when cooking set off the fire alarm and none of us knew exactly what to do and after much flapping and faffing, we found the big sign in bold writing on how to reset the fire alarm in the event of an accident.

And I got home from work the other day to find my son, who’d forgotten his keys, sipping tea in the communal hallway from a mug I didn’t recognise, after my opposite neighbour made him a brew while he waited for us to get back.

There have also been tragedies; my above neighbour losing her daughter on a family holiday last year after she was knocked down. A head girl and A* student who died just weeks before her A level results.  My opposite neighbour’s father died a few months ago and my children lost their grandfather only two weeks ago.

Walking past your neighbours in the hallway, snippets of conversations about it being impossible to park on the road during the busy Summer season, taking in parcels for them while they are out, borrowing ingredients you’ve run out of, are very normal things for most neighbours.  But there was something so different about the message from my top floor neighbours today.  They were reaching out in such a genuinely profound way I could not help but sit back and marvel at the fact that despite the fact we live in the same building, the Covid19 outbreak will undoubtedly cement our relationships for life, if we are to face the coming months in potential isolation and lockdown together.

After I had created the “Neighbours” What’s App group my phone sent through a Facebook notification saying someone had recommended I add myself to a local group; this is where I saw posts from people appealing for where they can buy nappies and milk, toilet roll and the like.  I scrolled down the thread and saw countless people offering to be delivery drivers, saying they were DBS checked, with transport and willing to help.

Tonight, I saw the other side, after visiting my local shop, the usually bulging shelf of varying types of toilet roll lay empty with just a solitary sign stating, “only one pack per person” therefore reiterating to me that there will always be a fraction of our society who panic buy; who don’t think about the consequences of their actions. However, the purpose for beginning The Covidiaries is so I can reflect back at the trends and behaviours but more importantly to dissect those stories which surprise us, which reaffirm to us that human beings are, by and large, wonderful and that we all have an important role to play in this life and how by working together we can be a real force of good.

Strong communication and leadership are what we will need now and if the government keeps its promise to hold daily updates, this should ease the uncertainty many of us have over our future.  I heard on the radio weddings and funerals will go ahead as planned, so we can lay the children’s grandfather to rest next week, thankfully in peace and away from what can feel like the beginning of chaos in our hospitals and care homes.

My neighbours, who are ten years younger than me, really surprised me today.  Perhaps they overheard me during several frantic phone calls to family and colleagues, perhaps they feel sorry for me as a single parent, but perhaps, they were just being genuinely decent neighbours and human beings.  I do believe the latter to be true.