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HONORING MY MOTHER | Running through the motions




EVERY level has a different devil. Such is the norm in this pandemic Jumanji. As each of us struggle day to day coping with all we need to do in order for us and our families to stay safe, the other side of the coin is an unrelenting fear deep down that we might somehow miss a step and fail miserably. 

Just recently, despite what I believe were passable precautions, someone in our street block contracted Covid. Now, aside from a sudden dip in the everyday, passers-by have become more sober and cautious. A good thing perhaps. 

However, throughout all these added hassles, there are still the daily routines with which to contend with, as they’ve never left in the first place. Instead, because of present conditions, they’ve become fused with the added demands of the time, thereby making up for a much fuller schedule, minus the soundtrack of Jaws in the background. 

On the subject of work for example, the new normal may have given the concept of work (being employed) a new dimension. How can it be both a refuge and a curse?  The fact remains that one has still got to do it so as to get by. At first, the new reality of a shifted style of work from home might have appeared as a welcome challenge and a thrill even. Yet when these meet with the home atmosphere, something’s got to give way. The contradiction still permeates in many mid-class situations.

While looking up from all these daily troubles, the more important thing remains; the vigilance to constantly monitor the progress of others in proximity, worrying about their quarantine efforts, and where are they in their efforts at preventing contagion. Are all of you on the same page? Not only have we become complacent (partly because of the lowering of quarantine levels), we have also failed miserably when assessing the risks that came our way. Worse than these, taking into consideration the health risk we can be to other people, has not been a common trait. The contradiction within; while many still remain reckless, in the back of everyone’s mind lies a lingering question, will the white van with flashing red and blue lights silently return once again to pick up a new patient from among us? 

Throughout all these whirlpools of chores and events, one simply realizes that the end product of this whole unfortunate affair is not surprising at all: we are steadily being beaten up by the stark realization that it just doesn’t get any better. So, with every level that we attain, a new devil, much like Delta, lurks somewhere.


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