I’m trapped at home like millions of citizens in the world because of the coronavirus. I’m not counting the days anymore. I have suffered a worsening of my depression. That is why I have been silent until today. I had no strength to write.
I know I have no right to feel sick in these days when so many people are suffering so much, fighting for their lives or the lives of their patients, or putting themselves in the line to keep us all well. I know that. And I pray every day a lot for all of them.
My sister is a nurse in a big hospital and works non stops with patients with coronavirus. I admire her.
At the same time, I feel so useless!
My older sister has advised me by phone to retake the blog and try to stay in contact with people that way. She also told me that it is an excellent time to try to write something or take the brushes and paint something as I use to do. But nothing comes to my mind when I’m looking at an empty screen or a blank canvass. I’m entirely blocked—zero creativity.
During WWII, my father spent time in a concentration camp. And he never gave up. He survived. I have a picture of him on my desk and every day ask him how he was able to do it. Day by day, always convinced that one day he will be free to go back to the arms of his true love, then his girlfriend, later my mom.
They are together in Heaven. No war or coronavirus can touch them.
They are at peace.
Oh! Peace, come to me.