People

Sean Moncrieff: I’m addicted to postal tracking

Frontline workers have put in super-human efforts throughout the pandemic

Postal tracking. It’s a buzz. Photograph: Getty Images

Sean Moncrieff
Sat Mar 6 2021 - 06:00

Postal tracking. It's a buzz. Don't pretend you haven't done it: compulsively checking to see if your parcel has been dispatched, if it's reached the sorting hub, if it's arrived in Ireland. That dopamine hit when it does. You might even get a text telling you when it will arrive, which sometimes has a personal touch: your courier Daniel will be delivering your package today between 11.57 and 13.57.

Every time I get that text, I feel a dull pang of guilt. I feel I should invite him in for a cup of tea or at least high-five him at the front door. But Daniel and I have to be safe. He rings the doorbell and leaves the package there. We might manage a wave of thanks. I’ve never used his name as I’m not sure it is his name. The robo-message might call them all Daniel.

The cancelling of the St Patrick's Day celebrations was one of the first signs of just how serious it was. That it's been cancelled again without anyone barely noticing demonstrates that this hasn't changed

Still, the text is a nice reminder that while a large proportion of the country is still stuck at home, there are many Daniels out there doing many things. It goes without saying – though it also can’t be said enough – that our frontline workers are extraordinary. They have put in a super-human effort and, exhaustingly for them, it’s not over yet.

But there are many others too who are keeping our country and economy ticking; as much as is possible. Couriers, vets, shop assistants. People packing boxes in warehouses who we never see. There is, no doubt, a long list, many of them paid poorly, working long hours and quite possibly worried about having to do so. In our current reality, merely leaving the house comes with an element of risk.

READ MORE

Remember this time last year? The pandemic was new, perhaps even a bit exciting. Many people, including me, thought it might last a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, at which time some sort of pandemic foghorn would blow and we’d flood out on to the streets, able to hug each other with virus-defying abandon. The cancelling of the St Patrick’s Day celebrations was one of the first signs of just how serious it was. That it’s been cancelled again without anyone barely noticing demonstrates that this hasn’t changed.

When this is over, whenever that is, we will, I hope, fully realise how exceptional the vast majority of Irish people have been

Not that I’m particularly upset about it. Obviously, there are more serious matters to attend to, but even in the non-pandemic times, celebrating Irishness in the midst of the howling gales and slanting rain of March never much appealed to me. I haven’t been to a Paddy’s Day parade in years.

Yes, it’s a worldwide tradition. Yes, the date is set by the church calendar. But given that it’s now largely a secular event, about the people rather than the saint, is there not an argument to stage it at a different, non-hailstone-drenched time of the year? I know: chances of that are zero.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t have two festivals. The second one can be in the summer, and the second can commemorate – and celebrate – one of the most extraordinary periods in the history of this country. There were a lot of missteps, of course. Too much politics, too many contradictory messages. Loosening restrictions when we shouldn’t have. A bafflingly slow reaction to restricting visitors. The lack of an all-Ireland approach. A lot of vulnerable people and businesses were overlooked. It’s been far from perfect.

Yet when this is over, whenever that is, we will, I hope, fully realise how exceptional the vast majority of Irish people have been: that we came together in a way that we never had before. A collective effort that strained our patience and our pockets, but saved lives and protected health and demonstrated that we have all sorts of quiet, dogged heroes; who served us all by merely going to work.

That’s worth some bunting and a fun fair. That’s worth a float with Daniel waving down at us. I’d go to that and cheer.

LATEST STORIES