Our Daily Ritual

Doreen is my oldest friend and I had lost touch with her, until Covid.

I called her at the beginning of the pandemic and we talked a lot. Doreen, like me lives alone and it was sad to hear her say she had not seen or talked to a soul for days on end.

During that crazy time of walking streets without traffic, closed down shops, standing two meters apart in supermarket queues, wearing masks and not being able to meet in community spaces, our daily ritual began.

“I don’t know how to fix this” we would say to each other, “the world is crazy.”

We couldn’t, we agreed, change anything. We could, we agreed, strengthen our friendship by writing to each other everyday and through a daily ritual know some one to be listening and supportive.

For years now we have written every morning. Each morning we tell of what is happening that day and what was going on yesterday. We tell of neighbours, doctor’s visits, the weather and our gardens

Doreen and I met in the Bahamas when very young. Brimming with energy and grabbing life with both hands we drank at the Pub On The Mall, ate conch fritters at Eight Mile Rock, and danced in our tiny skirts at The Joker is Wild. Weekends were spent lounging in tiny bikinis, poolside at the West End Resort. We learned to sail, surf and snorkel.

We learned about alcohol, smoked like chimneys and ate American steaks with salad swimming in blue cheese dressing.

Being English tied us. School stories, post war parents, holiday camps and summer jobs linked us.

Teacher trained in England we taught in the Bahamas at an American High School. In sweltering heat, among queen palms, caucerian trees and to the sound of tree frogs we were queens of our classrooms. We lived in American-style apartments with giant fridges, balconies and ranch-sliders. At weekends we would escape to Nassau to buy straw hats and bags in quayside markets or fly to Miami for eat-all-you-can restaurants and beaches.

I left the Bahamas long before Doreen did. She stayed married and lived there until retirement age then moved to New Zealand, where our paths crossed again.

We vowed when we talked during Covid to stay in touch and decided to email every day. Our Daily Ritual began and continues.

Upon waking, always early, I take my pills, sit at my laptop and write to Doreen. In winter I have socks, sometimes two pair, a fleece and quilted vest. A wool hat is for the coldest time. In summer the windows are open and I write in my nightie with orange juice at hand. Our daily ritual involves relaying every day happenings, little things that give joy and make us thankful to be alive. We discuss what we are reading, YouTube videos and Netflix films.

As we are both old now, our daily ritual reassures that we are not alone - we are not the only ones walking slowly, falling asleep after lunch and complaining about the cost of everything and not being able to secure a dentist appointment.

Doreen sleeps later but there is always a letter before 10am. At ninety six she is a role model, still paints, practises yoga and is a rugby enthusiast.

We both live alone, paint, and sharing our ideas and activities keeps us on our toes.

Each day there is always something to relate. Daily happenings are entertaining, never boring, relating goings-on generates a realisation that life is good, simple things give us joy.

Today’s Daily Ritual

From me to Doreen.

Subject Saturday.

Mornings are still dark and cold. Am not yet used to Daylight savings. Clocks just sprung forward an hour. Which is the natural way to be? Are you getting soaked - rain is endless.

Workmen still replacing storage locker. When it is not wet, they turn up, make a noise, then disappear, Do they have another job or long coffee breaks? Freesias are washed out. The potted Money Tree has collapsed it seems to be water logged.

Neighbour, Denise brought lemons from her tree. Hot lemon, ginger and honey drinks for me.

Lemons would be good for your cough. Is it clear yet?

Went to pub with the Two Old Guys last evening. I do enjoy the change of scene, company and the crowd of young people. Kumera chips and a glass of red make me happy. the pub . To ring the changes we headed to Vulcan Lane a haunt of John, when he worked for The Herald. Belgian beer and mussels were enjoyed among a crowd of young students. Good to be in the city. I always enjoy the walk home, the lights, the people and the moon, if it appears.

Lots of love.

Daily Ritual.

From Doreen to me.

Subject Saturday.

Laser eye treatment yesterday has helped me read without pushing my nose to the screen. I can now see your very small font.

Managed to get to yoga this morning. I ache afterwards and may get Mandy in for massage. Jimi will be calling in to stretch canvases and clean the kitchen. He has an idea for a new online video using ink and cloth technique.

Enjoy your day.

Lots of love.

There have been a few times when our Daily Ritual has been interrupted. When I visit my son’s beach house there is no WiFi, so no email. Doreen’s computer packed in once so she called me instead.

Our Daily Ritual has strengthened our friendship and reinforces the way that two old women, living alone find confidence. It is good to know that someone else is in the same boat.

When one or the other of us can no longer write it will be a sad day.

I do wonder if more of us should be writing to each other. Whether people who at times feel lonely should tell someone else how they are feeling and what they are up to in their everyday journey.

Maybe this is how needing companionship in old age could be fixed.