Managed isolation staff at the Sudima Hotel in Rotorua send a message of cheer from 'behind the lines' in 2020. Photo / Supplied
Managed isolation staff at the Sudima Hotel in Rotorua send a message of cheer from 'behind the lines' in 2020. Photo / Supplied
Opinion
OPINION
Christmas is a festival about giving thanks. In churches near and far, Christians gather to give thanks for the birth of Jesus, all that his life would mean, and has meant. Carols are sung, nativity scenes displayed, and monies are collected for worthy causes. It is a time for remembering, praying for family and friends, especially those in need.
But most of all, it is a time of gratitude.
Gratitude is a sentiment felt widely across our land as we near Christmas. Gratitude that we are alive, and that we have been kept safe. Gratitude that most of the medically vulnerable among us have survived and the competencies of medical professionals and politicians have made it so. Gratitude that we can mix and mingle at parties, sporting and other social occasions. Gratitude that on Christmas day we can sit, eat, and enjoy our families and friends. For it's been a strange year for us, as if parallel universes were operating.
There is the universe of those who have had the inconvenience of being "locked down" at home, working from home, and socialising with those at home. There's been the enjoyment of walking around the neighbourhood, the lack of cars, and hearing the birds make a comeback. Many have learnt to Zoom, learnt what a YouTube channel is, and have daily given thanks for Alexander Graham Bell, Tim Berners-Lee, and their successors. We missed coming together for parties, for Easter, for weddings, and funerals. But "inconvenience" is probably the right descriptor – inconvenience with anxiety playing a tune in the background about what could have, or still could, happen.
Then there is a parallel universe down the road, or over the back fence, where it's been rough. There's those who have lost their jobs, or are frightened of that happening. Those who have lost their businesses. The "for lease" signs in even the more affluent shopping areas testify to that. There's those who have really struggled with the social isolation, of living alone, or living apart from friends and those they emotionally and physically rely on. Every counsellor in Auckland has seen an increase in those seeking help. And there's those whose loved ones have died, and they couldn't have a funeral. "Rough" is probably the right descriptor for what's been, and for many still is.
Glynn Cardy. Photo / Supplied
Behind both these New Zealand universes there has been some constants. Our medical and scientific community have been of one mind. Which means at times critiquing each other as they strive for their best. Our politicians have been near-unanimous in following that medical/scientific advice, and in providing economic support to help those struggling. And, of course, they should and do critique each other as they strive to be their best for us.
When we think about these "constants" gratitude arises. The scenarios that senior medical staff were planning for back in March would have been truly horrific. We weren't prepared. We got lucky, and made our luck. We dodged a bullet – nay, more like a war.
We know what we dodged because over the seas, in countries not too dissimilar from us, there is another parallel universe(s) operating with many getting sick, many dying, health systems overrun, health workers exhausted, much unemployment and business loss, little unanimity about how to respond, and little consistent effective leadership. Many of us have family and friends in these places and fear for them. The countries they are in do really sound like war zones.
It's been a strange year, and now hopefully the magic of vaccines will enable a less fearful and less devastating New Year for the universes so near and yet far from us.
So, as we come to Christmas, whether religious or not, we are simply grateful.
