In post-quake life any semblance of familiar routines is welcome and reassuring. This was brought home to me on a recent Saturday. Work commitments meant that our usual Friday morning supermarket trip had to be postponed to Saturday morning. To allow for my traditional treasured Saturday beach walk I needed to get up earlier than I usually do on weekends. Driving home with the shopping I spied a new container in the cemetery (what’s going on there?), a new advertising banner on the temporary housing model beside the cottage, continuing demolition of the flats opposite, and a digger moving in to demolish the old Bridge Club building.
It all felt just too much and I realised how stressed I was feeling. The only constant these days is change. There are exciting things going on, and they are cheering, but I grieve for the familiar inner city lifestyle, and long for an end to continual change, especially around my home.
Last week I twice had lunch out, once with an old friend, and once with a new. As the new friend said “going out to lunch again starts to feel like normality.”
“Routines familiar every day
by earthquakes have been swept away.”