21 April 2020, a swift shut of my laptop to take a little break at 4pm to pause. Headed on over to my usual spot on the floor to soak in the beautiful patch of sunshine that generously sprawled along a length of our hallway from an early noon extending well into the night (a much talked about but first hand experienced British summer).
Extremely content, soaking in the warmth while simultaneously understanding why cats and dogs lay on a sun kissed floor.
With my tulsi tea and a snack – a bowl of freshly cut green apples, tart as ever, just the way I like it. Served with a spoonful of mixed nut & chocolate butter that I had just learnt to make a couple of weeks ago with @optimist_cynic .
Quite content and admittedly, a bit proud of how well it turned out.
Seated on the floor for a break, my eyes closed- content, warm, a bit proud.
The exact moment I decided to stop and pick up my phone to check everything and nothing (a habit I wish to break) when I noticed a number of missed calls and an apologetic message from a cousin.
“Strange”, I thought to myself as I returned one of the phone calls, each unresponsive, until I finally managed to get an answer from my uncle. The exact moment that sunshine and warmth on my face turned into darkness and silent tears as a result of having heard my worst fears come to life.
A fear magnified by a pandemic and universal lockdown whose uncertainty left me trapped and helpless for days turned to weeks until I was able to feel that sunshine again. In small doses. Not from the sun but from the blessings in the form of family, friends – both old and new and from time( an always fickle friend).
I am at present, living my fears. But I hold onto those small rays of sunshine when I find them. I do look for them and find them at times. And when I do, I look back at this photo of this tea and snack.
I never did finish that bowl of apples and nut butter that day. It lay on the floor in the sunshine, untouched, representing a once perfect moment of happiness turned on its head within seconds.
This photo remains up here to remind myself that at one point it did lay untouched but it will be eaten again.