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No candles, just hugs

Author: Laura Carberry

Please note: this piece contains descriptions some readers may find upsetting.

Birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, graduations, even passing your driving test. These are all cause for a celebration, I agree. Don't get me wrong, I am the first there with a helium balloon and a cheese and pickle hedgehog. However, watching the events unfold during the pandemic has made me rethink what deserves a celebration.

Newsreel of innocent people dying on trollies in over crowded hospitals, nursed by angels with mask-shaped welts on their faces made me hold my loved ones closer. Until I couldn't. Until it wasn't safe to hold anyone. The empty shelves in supermarkets terrified me, as the nation fought over pasta and toilet paper. As if these two magic items could form a forcefield to repel the dreaded COVID-19. As roads quietened, shops closed and swing parks grew silent; a chilly testament to the fear felt by parents when even a slide down the chute was deemed too dangerous. The world seemed darker, smaller and very surreal.

Then at the height of the first wave, as we mourned people we knew and people we had never met, things began to change. Yes, we were still scared but we started to celebrate. We celebrated the bravery and brilliance of NHS staff by clapping with our neighbours. We celebrated our community as volunteers shopped for strangers who became friends. We had a new found respect for teachers as we homeschooled our children (who taught us much more than we taught them). Most of all we celebrated the small things in life. The things we missed in our normal, busy, modern lives. The beautiful rainbows our children made for the windows, the wonky banana bread, crazy tiger-owning Americans and having a cold beer in our own lovely gardens.

So now, as life goes on despite waves and peaks, there are so many reasons to celebrate. The first post-vaccine-hug with my lovely Mum, the first girl's night out with my brilliant pals and the first trip to the beach with my amazing, resilient children will all fill me with the same excitement and joy as my 21st birthday party. When I can go to a gig and sing, mask free, till my throat hurts, it will feel like Christmas Day.

So celebrate everything, every day. Remember how fortunate you are to dip your toes in the freezing Atlantic Ocean or read The Gruffalo to your kids for the fiftieth time. Or being able to have a laugh with your workmates - even if it is on Zoom! We made it through and that is the biggest cause for celebration there has ever been.