Sundays are meant to be lazy. Ours is no exception. D and I relax on the outdoor loungers and watch the world warm up in the golden Caribbean light. We are 10 days into our enforced isolation. “Only 5 days to go” says D, glumly. Quarantine is an introvert’s dream come true.
We catch up with family, by zoom. At least now it makes little difference whether we are the other side of the Atlantic, or down the road; all family gatherings are online until further notice. I haven’t seen my parents for the longest time in my life, 13 months. We may be miles apart but weirdly we have stayed closer since the pandemic, with regular calls and emails.
In the evening, A says she is struggling with her GCSE history studies, on the topics of the world wars. I hire B to tutor her for an hour. Ten minutes into the session and he is already asking for a raise. “I didn’t realise she would be this difficult to teach.” is his explanation. We discover that A thinks Ypres is in France, that Belgium sits between France and England, and that Wales is somewhere to the north of England. I guess when she learned her world map in elementary years, Europe seemed so distant, the specifics perhaps didn’t seem to matter so much. “At least she isn’t doing Geography GCSE” offers B, looking for a positive comment.
We watch ‘Rogue One’ the Star Wars movie. The final scene ties in perfectly with the opening scene of ‘A New Hope’, the first Star Wars movie for my generation. There is something nostalgic about watching these movies with the kids, the same way our parents watched them with us. Perhaps, whatever our age, we never tire of stories set in a galaxy far, far away.
