I would never have thought I’d wake up in a world where I live in anticipation of how much of my grocery order gets deleted.
I would never have thought I’d live to see the day when bread and meat shelves are empty.
I know I’m privileged to live here in Alberta, Canada where food availability, overall, is something we can count on. And yet, Covid-19 has upended all of this.
It’s hard to meal plan when you aren’t sure if you can get the food you plan on, so meal planning needs adjusting. It’s learning to cook with what you can find, rather than finding what you want and cooking with that. It’s adjusting your menu to use everything you’ve got, every last little piece, because food waste takes on a new meaning now, in this time.
I’m doing ok. But I’m grieving. This isn’t going to last forever. I’m confident at some point we’ll achieve enough herd immunity and vaccine or other related medical treatments. But I’m grieving the loss of what was. My faith in the system that has been in place since I was born has been broken.
Around the world as the tsunami of this illness reaches every country and touches every person in some way, we’re experiencing a collective global grief. It’s not so bad yet, in Alberta. But we’re holding our breath just the same, because we know it will touch us personally. And then our grief will shift again. This ebb and flow will continue around the globe because we've never collectively experienced this before. I just needed to write tonight to let you know we're in this together. I'm here with you, and if you need to talk, I'm here to listen.
Hop over to my facebook page and like me, follow me. Let's get through this together.
I’m doing ok, today. Are you?
Be well, friends.