There’s been a lot of discussion about why this lockdown is harder than the one we had at the same time last year.
Freedom Day in London, international travel possible all over the world… while most Aussies are in varying degrees of lockdown. It quite simply sucks because we thought we were out of it – or at least could see the shining light at the end of the tunnel.
For me, and so many others, there’s an extra layer of suckiness – and it’s an unspoken one because it feels so isolating, so private, too raw.
The person who got them through last year is no longer here.
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Because of COVID-19 or another illness, or maybe even an accident – that person, who cannot be replaced by the love of others – has disappeared. And it is hard.
Every day of lockdown is a reminder of the gaping hole they left behind and no matter how much love is around us, it doesn’t make the chasm any less.
For me, that person was my sister Raji who died in Adelaide during the July Sydney lockdown of 2020.
Up until July 31, 2020 - when she was ripped from my life with no warning - Raji, just 42, was a psychiatrist and mum-of-two. She was beautiful, kind, funny, the most generous person you’d ever meet, and one of my best friends for more than four decades.
Since then, I’ve been through other restrictions without her – but this time, this four-weeks-and-going lockdown in Sydney, it’s really hurting.