There is not much happening today that we could call ‘normal’.
Normal has become merely another word that belongs to the distant
past (of one month ago). Those long-ago days of hugs. Handshakes. School. Dining out.
Attending Sabbath services. Concerts. Plays. Sporting events. Getting together
with friends and family.
Playing with one’s grandchildren.
In fact, the old curse “May you live in Interesting Times”
seems to have taken a firm hold.
And so we reach out eagerly, even desperately for anything
that could be considered ‘normal’.
I live in the small city of Beaumont in North-Central Alberta, nestled
snugly up against the greater-metropolis of Edmonton.
A community known for its quiet bustle.
Its warm, friendly neighbourhoods.
Its village parenting.
Like most other settlements across the globe, the usually
busy streets are quiet as families shelter in place.
Community chat pages have sprung up offering support and
advice.
Deliveries quietly appear on the doorsteps of those in need.
But still we seek for any sign that brings back that quiet,
cared-for feeling of ‘normal’.
Today, at 9:00 AM, I found one, when the silvery tones of
the great St. Vital church bell rang out across the quiet city.
As it has done for over 100 years.
Since the end of another plague.
A tiny, silvery bit of ‘normal’.
A very precious piece of 'normal' or whatever passes for normal these days. Every day I try to find one little sliver of the 'silver lining' and today that was having all my windows open and the sun streaming in.
ReplyDeleteAnd in other signs of normal (which fill me with joy every day), the sun rises and the birds sing.
ReplyDeleteAs we all adjust to our new normal, it's nice to be reminded that some things remain, and will continue once all of this is over. Stay safe, Diane.
ReplyDeleteWhen this dwindles down in time (a long time), people will always remember it. It may be that everyone will have a loved one who died or survived.
ReplyDeletePrecious and welcome, i am sure.
ReplyDelete