Skip to content

Bridget McNulty Posts

Life in the time of coronavirus

Well! What a strange year this turned out to be. Who would have thought, when I wrote about a peaceful and present 2020, that the world would turn upside down and we’d be living through a global pandemic? I have largely kept quiet on here because I think there’s generally been too much noise, and too many people thinking their opinions are important. But this morning I feel the need to write.

A peaceful and present new year

It’s 2020! We’re in the future. And I’m in my lovely, peaceful home, surrounded by plants and enjoying the silence of a house without children for the first time in a month. We had a really lovely Christmas and a beautiful New Year holiday that was nevertheless tinged with sadness because of the absence of my mom. Christmas without a mom! Who would have thought it was possible? Now that it’s a new year, I have a simple and powerful focus that I hope will permeate every aspect of 2020…

Waves of grief

My mom died five months ago yesterday. And I was hit by such an overwhelming wave of grief last night that I feel I am back at square one. What surprises me is not the timing of the wave – the 1st of every month has been hard, my dad isn’t feeling great, I was away this weekend so I had space and time for emotions to surface. What surprises me is the velocity and force of it.

Gardening as therapy

I have always wanted to be a gardener… One of those ladies in wide-brimmed straw hats (don’t have one) with a basket full of tools (don’t have one) and an encyclopedic knowledge of plants (don’t have one). But what I do have, all of a sudden, is a passion for gardening as therapy. Here’s how I think it works:

And then this happened:

Things have been pretty hard and sad around here, as you can tell from all the depressing blog posts. But then Mark got hit by a car on Friday, and all of a sudden I was longing for the hard, sad days of before.

He’s okay – or he will be, after 6 weeks of bed rest, when his broken back heals itself and his sprained wrist comes right. He’s lucky: it could have been much worse. But being knocked off your motorbike and skidding across the road till your lumbar spine hits the pavement is pretty bad, let’s be honest. And it has made one thing very clear to me.