My neighbour died. I hadn’t seen him lately and I wondered where he might be.
He liked to beachcomb or sit and look at the beautiful views of Boundary Bay with his big dog by his side
He was the first to collect cut wood from a fallen tree or pick up free stuff left on the curb. The last time I saw him we discussed his veggie boxes he built out of found metal, they were first class and I told him so.
I pass his house on my nightly dog walks and I noticed his dog missing from his outdoor bed. Had he gone away to work, was he staying somewhere else?
There didn’t seem to be anyone to ask, because he lived alone. He was what some might call a local, ‘character’, and I liked him. Now I know he died of a drug overdose, lost to a lethal batch of tainted drugs.
The fear, sadness and loneliness behind closed doors is palatable, I can feel it all around me. I just can’t see it, until I saw my neighbours’ house was empty.
We are spending an increased amount of time alone, working from home and becoming less and less social. It’s taking a toll. Fifty per cent of Canadians say their mental health is on the decline because of COVID-19.
Domestic abuse is on the rise under pandemic restrictions as lockdowns become a recurring event. Women are especially vulnerable as partners live and work in small spaces and spend more time together.
Alcohol and marijuana consumption has increased and depression and anxiety in young people is being driven by isolation and increased time spent on line.
Manners in public places have deteriorated as people glare at one another if they don’t social distance, or pack their groceries the right way. Road rage is everywhere.
So here’s a little refresh now that we are in our second year of pandemic fatigue. You don’t know what people’s stories are or what kind of burden they carry behind closed doors.
Remember to be kind, be patient, check on your neighbour, and ask questions if something doesn’t feel right. Offer to lend a hand or give a wave. I can tell when you are smiling behind your mask.
The good news is vaccines are here and summer is on the way, so we can come out from the shadows intact and eager to be seen again.
Ingrid Abbott is a freelance writer and broadcaster who is relieved spring is here so she can work out her COVID-19 frustration in the garden.
