Hello
Here in Japan, the infection rate of Covid-19 is on a constant rise since last month. Day by day its number hits the highest record after 2.5 years of battling with the virus and we have no idea how to settle down its spread any more. It strikes me with a weird sensation now that governments and global economy cannnot/ will not stop closing its doors and that summer festivals and home-comings-after-three-years are all arorund, when the mortality rate hits the worst. Three years of endurance seems so insignificant in a sense when at last with the opening of economy we suffer the most at least statistically.
It was the end of July when Mom, a stubborn believer of her perfect hygiene protection, showed Covid-19 related symptons such as cough and throat pain at first and followed unusually high fever, which opened up my "truely memorable" summer holiday tale.
I have been taking care of myself for as long as I tried living alone in India many years ago. Since then, cooking, cleaning, washing and self-financing was a naturally acquired habit. But I instantly forgot ALL of them when coming back home last month and living with my parents. And as you might suspect, now I faced a situation where I needed to wake up my old-self to help through Mom's (exaggerating but for her) death threatening struggle with Covid-19.
Three meals and a 3 o'clock snack to be ready, washing dishes and clothes in complete separation, wearing vinyl globes and masks in a possible contaminated places and 24/7 getting drenched in alcohol spray was indeed a major shift. Temporarily staying at my parents' probably makes a greater change than simply moving in the UK
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