Finding Hope with Freddie and Rabbit

It's always there if we look for it.

There was an article on the BBC website a few days ago that read “Are we in a summer Covid wave?” Not living in a bustling city teeming with people I feel slightly more immune here, but after one of my wonderful subscribers told me she had recently caught the bug while visiting London, I started to think back to that wretched time in 2020 when Covid was a new word to most of us and one we soon began to fear. And quite rightly.

All of us were affected by Covid in some way and unfortunately some are still suffering from the long term effects. Many sadly lost loved ones and friends, especially in the early days when the medical profession and scientists were doing their best to find treatments and cures for this new, highly infectious strain of Coronavirus. Not one of us could imagine at the time the extent of chaos and distress the world was facing.

Work life was upended for the majority, schools were closed, families were unexpectedly thrown together for claustrophobic months at a time or suddenly separated, causing untold suffering and heartache.

Personally, my own day to day existence wasn’t overly disrupted. Living an unexciting life revolving mostly around my home and garden, life carried on mainly as normal, except those things I was already grateful for became even more important during those isolated months. The garden provided many ways to keep physically and mentally active, whilst being a welcome oasis of calm away from the turmoil going on outside.

I was lucky, with open countryside on the other side of the gate there was freedom to walk the green lanes with small chance of bumping into anyone else along the way, the kitchen wasn’t short of food and I never felt the need to stock pile toilet rolls.

Like many other people of a similar age, the one thing that affected me the most was not being able to visit my parents who were in a care home at the time. Even though I remind myself it was outside of my control to do anything to change the situation, I still feel incredibly guilty leaving them without a hand to hold or a reason to smile in those dark days. Mum was bedridden, unable to speak or see so any digital contact was out of the question and poor Dad, confused with Alzheimers, could not understand why suddenly I wasn’t allowed to sit inside. Waving at him through the window while wearing a mask just caused more upset and made him angry with his already stressed carers. The day I dropped his 90th Birthday present off at the door, unable to kiss him and give him a much needed hug was heart wrenchingly sad, he deserved so, so much more.

But life went on. I was one of many in the same boat and there were thousands of people dealing with much more harrowing circumstances than my own. I can’t imagine what it must have been like not to be able to perform the most basic of human rights; saying last goodbyes to loved ones, paying respects and being allowed to grieve at a funeral. Families missed out on bonding with new grandchildren, nieces and nephews, long-planned marriages and celebrations were put on hold and too many people felt abandoned, lonely and alone.

Fortunately, as it always does in dire situations, humanity showed what is capable of. Amidst desperation and gloom there are always those good samaritans who manage to lighten the load of others, bring help to the needy and care for those less fortunate. I remember at the time there was a widespread sentiment that if anything positive could be found during the lockdowns it was the way people came together and showed that the milk of human kindness was not something that had been lost long ago. Compassion and charity was alive and well, faith in the human race was restored when we realised people on the whole were a good bunch who cared about their fellow man.

I think we were all hoping that the same camaraderie would carry on after the pandemic was over. Unfortunately, as was to be expected, once everyone returned to their jobs and 'normality’ that nationwide spirit of togetherness faded, not in a mean spirited way, it’s just that everyone was exhausted and wanted to get back to the comfort of their old pre-mask way of life.

But we must remember, although that widespread show of unity and kinship waned, it is still there, lingering under the surface and always will be, ready to return when needed. I am sure about that because I believe in hope.

Without hope we are lost, hope-less. In times like these when the news doesn’t spread much joy it is easy to feel despondent about the world and the dire state of the beautiful planet we live on. With hope and the ability to see and appreciate small acts of kindness, a much happier place opens up right on our doorstep. Even something as easy to give away as a smile can make a difference to someone’s day.

Good deeds don’t have to be flamboyant gestures or shows of philanthropy shouted about on social media. Picking up a piece of rubbish, opening a door for someone, offering someone a trolly in the supermarket, saying thank you to the dustbin man, phoning a friend, the list is endless. A postcard received last week put a smile on my face all day! All these little actions, although seemingly insignificant, offer the receiver a little gift of hope in the human race.

In the midst of Covid and those uncertain times when there was no end to the pandemic in sight, I drew these little illustrations of my very laid back dog, Freddie, and a small but spirited rabbit who wanted to spread a little happiness to anyone who was feeling in need of a comforting hug. My very kind Instagram friend Kim @bettymaewrote in Australia said I should dig them out, so here they are, a reminder that whatever is going on in the world, there will always be hope, we just need to look out for it, and each other.

Love Lindsey x

All illustrations copywrite

Lindsey Dickson

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