When Life Becomes Full Colour Again

Ring out the bells, sing out loud. I have been given the green light to spend more time on this remarkable, beaten world, with those whom I love. Covid did not get me. At last, my entombment, this troglodyte life has come to an end. Yesterday, unlike today. Tomorrow I can now plan. Dates solid in the diary. The gathering of family and friends to celebrate the closure of this stolen year. The promise of colour and new possibility. Hope to think of the future.

With the pop of a cork, I will sing and dance, revel in the coming together, at last. And as we sing 'I’m Still Standing', we’ll give thanks to the scientists, manufacturers, and volunteers. Without them we would all be living in fear. The NHS and the millions of frontline workers who cared, still in the middle of battle, instead of recuperating and enjoying a well-earned rest.

For too long I’ve been singing the blues, the voice of Nina Simone, an earworm in my head. For more than a year, I have chugged through a tunnel of boredom, stress, and uncertainty. My life devoid of colour, it’s highlights whittled down to food, walks, Zoom or fear. But in this theatre where the lights have been turned off, a torch was shone at the moon and I have been primed to the magic of nature’s adventures. The rays of a golden sun beaming down from a cloudless sky, kissing all it touches. The buds of trees turning into pink and white May blossom, lighting up the land. A multitude of plants sprouting out of warm, damp soil. In an isolated world, animals came out to play; sheep in Welsh villages with gay abandon, roamed streets, stealing a playful whirl, where once, it was voices of children you could hear.

I edited “until”, from my lexicon. I decided to create new memories, have different experiences in this time. Like millions of others, I bought a bike. A decision that opened simple pleasures in my life. I explored empty beaches, where if you closed your eyes, you could be transported to a faraway land, until the icy cold water of the North Sea, seeped through my shoes, nipping at my toes. I discovered the Pentlands, where I fought to pedal up the steep hills, the effort was worth it. A view so beautiful, I do not have the words to express. In my descend, zooming down with great speed, I was thrilled, feeling free. At the bottom, with a friend, we’d giggle as we celebrated the little things in life.

Now, as a light appears in sight, I am thankful that I have some semblance of my freedom back. My life refulgent, augmented with hope. Having survived the worst global crisis since the Second World War, it would be iniquitous to waste time. I’ll no longer take for granted those whom I value, instead keep them close and show how much they are loved. In a world with no certainty, I will continue to make plans, resolute that I will cease living in fear. The ubiquity of death during this year has kindled my desire to feel alive. To give thought to the future.

I hope that my future does not lean back to the past, for it is a foreign country that requires a red light. We must use this time of stop, to continue to bring positive change. The importance of community, the denouncement of greed, and accept mass consumerism cannot thrive. Democracy has ascended but still, more needs to be done. We must think of the ordinary man, for it is he who has suffered, and will continue to suffer, during these difficult times.

When the new normal becomes the norm, I will celebrate in united song, sitting next to a much-missed friend in the choir. I will swim in the pool, run on the treadmill, and stretch out in pilates. With my enhanced cooking skills, my table will be seated with family and friends. We will toast to togetherness and be grateful that we are replete with what matters in life.

When life becomes full colour again and I have found a home for my grief, given it time to settle. I will grasp at happiness. With new dates in the diary, I will plan bigger and better events than those postponed. In doing so I will give closure to the past and invite in the new. When I am ready, I will party like it was the last night of 1999. As we come together to sing 'Auld Lang Syne' I will “tak a cup of kindness”, look around at those whom I love, then smile. And as tears chase down my face, I will raise a glass to those whom we have lost.