Covid isolation and a lesson in friendship

 On Sunday, I had a bit of a wake up call. You think you are doing the right things, then you get a rude awakening and you realise that you've been living in a happy bubble and that many people, some good friends, are in a very different bubble, a bubble that is neither happy or easy. 

Let me explain. I am the deputy group leader of a group which operates under the auspices of a charity, which most years takes a group of people with disabilities to Lourdes in France. Most of the people who need assistance are what we designate for the purposes of covid "vulnerable". This year, as luck would have it, we were not going. We normally have a break every third or fourth year and this was our break year. This spared us a lot of wasted work. The whole idea of such a trip is simply unfeasible in the current circumstances. In a normal break year we may have one or two group reunions. These, too have been impossible. About a month ago, I suggested a virtual get together, using Zoom. I offered to host the get together. The invites were sent and last Sunday was the day. 

If I am being 100% honest, I wasn't looking forward to it. I have always disliked 'virtual meetings'. I understand the necessity, but my experiences of them over the years has been one that has lead me to develop an aversion to the process. In the business environment, I always felt that it offered far too much scope for people to hide, who did not wish to be productive. I was also concerned about people not being able to join, given the issues some of the group face. It was important to me to ensure that the people who most needed the get together were not excluded. The group leader made a lot of efforts to ensure that this happened. 

Much as I had feared, when the meeting started, some key players had issues joining. But all in all, 28 of the group participated and we did iron out the problems, so everyone got on in the end.  About half way through the get together, it hit me that for some of the group, it wasn't just a nice little get together. They had been looking forward to this for weeks, and even in the difficult medium of Zoom, it was something that they not only enjoyed, but needed. People shielding as they are at high risk have had virtually no social contact outside family members for the best part of nine months. Just the act of seeing friendly faces on a screen and having a bit of banter etc gave them a massive lift. I've been working since the end of the first lockdown. My business is allowed to operate and I've seen the friendly faces of customers  old and new on a daily basis. Some of the people in our group are confined to wheelchairs and have only seen carers for the whole period. The meeting gave them a little glimpse of normality and it was also a demonstration that we cared. 

In normal years, people in such a position still have a social life. They get out, they go to the pubs, see friends, etc. This year none of that has been possible. When I'd been discussing the meeting, I'd envisaged it as I envisage the normal reunion in a year off. But this year, it had a very different significance for many in the group.  For some, it was perhaps the first tenuous link with normality for almost nine months, beyond the mundane rituals of daily life. It was a reminder that we will get away, we will see each other and we, as a group, haven't forgotten anyone.

One helper, who's mum has been a very long time group member, was telling us of his mums struggles. She has dementia and is currently in hospital (non covid related) awaiting a care plan to return home. He told us that whilst coming to terms with her dementia has been difficult, he has come to realise that their relationship now has no side, no edge. All of the silly things we bicker about no longer matter and everything he takes from the relationship is good. They just laugh, joke, watch films and listen to music. He told us that once you can reconcile to the fact that you are living entirely in the present, it is something that you can take enormous positives from. 

It was suggested that we have another pre Christmas get together, to sing some carols etc before Christmas. It was clear that there were people who this really would make a difference for. 

The reason I chose to write a blog about this is because I am sure we all have friends and family who at the moment are feeling forgotten. We have the technology in this day and age to address this. The meeting gave me a lesson in friendship. It is a two way thing. We put our efforts in, but we also get much out of it. When the meeting finished, I felt uplifted. I got several messages after to tell me that people were extremely grateful that we'd put the effort into pulling the whole thing together. 

We really all should think about whether there are any friends who would benefit from a phone call or friendship groups where a member might enjoy a bit of banter and a Zoom call. I'm glad I had a reminder of what we should all be doing. 

One final thought. One of the key members reminded us that the people we help are looked after by professional carers. Back in Lockdown one,  we were out clapping them every Thursday. Now, in the second lockdown, the government have told many they don't deserve a pay rise. That can't be right, can it?

Some things are better than money !

Yesterday I found an old tape of my band, The False Dots. It was a "best of" compilation I'd made in 1988 for listening to in the car. It's been at least 10 years, probably longer since I listened to the tape. I thought I'd have a quick listen. Having forgotten completely what was on it, I was shocked when I played the start of the tape. In 1985, we'd done a gig at the Old Bull Art Centre in Barnet. I had a friend who was a talented comedian who had introduced us. The intro was hilarious. I'd put this intro as the opening of the tape. As I listened, I was overcome with sadness. My friend had massive issues with alcohol. He'd started drinking heavily at 14. I had heard that in 1990 he'd committed suicide. I realised that the reason I didn't listen to this tape was because it was just too depressing to hear him & think of the tragic waste.

My friend was 3 years younger than me. His life in some ways had followed mine. We'd both got to know each other as alter servers as kids. He'd followed me to Finchley Catholic High School. He was a highly intelligent and highly articulate kid. He was small for his age but able to verbally better anyone. He had a voice made for comedy and radio. The trouble was that Finchley in the early 1980's wasn't the school for his talents. In year 8, he'd said the wrong thing to the wrong person. He'd ended up in hospital. How did the school deal with it? They told his father that he was an unpopular child and his father could come to hear the pupils explain why. He followed my path from Finchley to Orange Hill School. Shortly after he started drinking. By the time he was 16 he was an alcoholic. I always liked him and tried to encourage him, but his demons were too deep. He moved to Ireland, had a child, came back. He'd try and get his life together, hit the buffers, go back on the drink. He fell off the Mill Hill scene radar. I saw his brother some time in 1990 and he looked distressed. "What's up?" I asked. "My Brother has committed suicide, the priest is on the way to see him". End of conversation. End of listening to that tape. Occasionally I'd find it, play it, put it away, feel sad.

Anyway, I found the tape yesterday. It was bitter sweet listening to it again. There is a line in the intro where he says "This band comes from Mill Hill. Mill Hill is a sleepy place, where everyone goes to bed by 9 O'clock. Well nearly everyone, because this band don't. When you hear them, maybe you'll wish they had" This got a rather big laugh. Memories, some things you can't buy.

Anyway, being a good Catholic lad, I went off to church this evening for the 6pm mass. As I left, I realised that my Uncle was there and I hadn't enquired after my Auntie who is unwell. I turned back and nearly knocked someone over in the process. He looked at me and said "Rog !". I couldn't believe my eyes. In the Catholic year, today is ascention day. The day Jesus departed to heaven. Rather remarkably, my friend who had committed suicide in 1990, was standing in front of me. It seems he'd come the other way ! I really couldn't believe my eyes. He explained that he'd taken a paracetamol overdose. He'd had 90% liver failure, received the last rights from a priest. He was currently off the booze & trying to get his life together. He said that every day since then he'd tried to treat as a blessing. He looked rather well, considering everything. He told me that he edits a newsletter for people with mental health issues. He is going for a job with the BBC as part of a program for people with issues such as his.

I always believed that if he got the chance he really could do well at radio or as a comedian. I hope he gets the opportunity. He was the most fearless person I've ever met, despite his slight build. He was also the most incisively witty. He was the person who lead me to the conclusion that if you are too intelligent, it is impossible to be completely sane. He couldn't listen to anyone or anything without seeing through whatever bull was being spoken. I think that's why he drank. It stopped him thinking.

I can't tell you how happy I was to find out that he was still with us. I told him about my blog. I hope he reads this. Some things are better than money, finding a friend you thought was gone forever is one of them.