Dance in your living room, life is short and you don't know when next you will dance amongst people again, says the writer. Picture: Jackson David/Pixabay
Dance in your living room, life is short and you don't know when next you will dance amongst people again, says the writer. Picture: Jackson David/Pixabay

A letter to Covid-19

By Lesley Rensburg Time of article published Jun 25, 2020

Share this article:

Dear Covid 19

I understand that you are in the world because in some greater plan of God you needed to appear. I realize that some way or the other equilibrium needed to be restored in this cruel world we live in and unfortunately it had to be done by war, disease or some other natural disaster hence your coming to being. 

Yes, your presence in our everyday life has changed somewhat society's reaction to each other by people helping their neighbours, wearing their masks,  supporting each other to not be infected by you and looking out for the poorest in our communities.

BUT 

Since you have arrived Rona, I can no longer see my sisters and mother who live in Johannesburg.

I cannot enjoy a meal out with my sister when she visits once a month and laugh which takes away the stresses I face in life.

I cannot have my Aunty Bernie come braai and tell us amusing stories, or my Aunty Lorna make me laugh like before.

Easter was not Easter this year because it was lonely and didn't have the true meaning of Easter, it made me very sad.

I couldn't celebrate mother’s day properly or even give my bonus mom a 50th birthday party.

I couldn't go abroad this year and share a family holiday with my homie and my brother.

You took with you in your tide of death my great-uncle who made me happy just seeing how happy he always was.

You killed our tourism market and my job depends on the tourism industry and now I'm piecing together the remnants of what once was a property market.

My daughter cannot go to school and this almost tore us apart because it came to fore that our personalities can co-exist for only a certain number of hours in a day before we rip each other apart.

I can no longer take my daughter to a movie, which was our mother-daughter thing we did.

Most importantly I cannot go to Mass, or receive holy communion or just feel myself in the presence of God in a sacred place, and for this reason my soul feels out of joint.

With this said I do want to thank you for the things which I learned over this period which is:

That no matter how much my family irritates me the day I can't see them or be in their company I will miss them

Appreciate the precious moments you get to spend with your aunts and uncles you never know when they will be gone for good.

Big milestone parties are not always necessary, all you need sometimes are the few people who really love you in one room to make your birthday special.

You are blessed to be able to go and have your hair, nails and other treatments done. Appreciate those who do this for you because without them you really don't feel yourself.

Work is the blessing of earth  if you still have a job to go to you were not 1 of the 7 000 000 retrenched.

Dance in your living room, life is short and you don't know when next you will dance amongst people again.

Lastly, it's the small things in life that we will miss the most even after you leave us Rona, it's handshakes when you meet someone, it's greeting your friends with a hug after a long time, its wearing lipstick , it's the Friday night get together with the buddies for that braai, or the Saturday sundowners at the beach.

So yes Rona, we have heard your message, we have felt the cry of the earth, have learned our lesson. So please Rona, I ask that you give us back the life we once knew.

Yours in Covid

Lesley Thereasa Rensburg

Share this article: