Bloody hell, Melbourne. You did it. You really did.
It’s been 139 days since our last day of zero new COVID-19 cases. June 9th.
In between then, we’ve put things aside – everything, really. From work, friends, and family, to simple things like idly browsing the aisles at a K-Mart or a Bunnings.
Everything put on ice.
In stasis.
On pause.
It’s been awful. Bloody gutachingly awful. A winter-and-a-bit of pure shit.
And we marched through it all – millions of us – together. Head high, will strong, absorbing every kick and punch, every worry and anxiety, every daily press conference along the way.
At its peak, we saw days of 700+ new cases. No one else in the country has had to endure the fear those kind of numbers conjure up. By christ I hope they never have to.
A small handful of absolute peanuts – from garden variety cranks to deadshit elected officials in opposition – did their best to make things so much worse; so much bloody harder than it ever needed to be.
It was already hard. Probably the hardest thing any of us will ever have to do. And we smashed the living shit out of it. All of us.
Because of the gritted-teeth determination of an entire city, we’re now looking at a summer where we can safely reconnect with ourselves, with our friends and family, and with our city.
Parks of people gathering together. Pubs pouring fresh ones off the tap. Retail open. People back at work. Family and friend back together.
It’s a special thing, what we’ve achieved. Something not replicated in many other places in the world. The gravity of this as a broader achievement probably won’t be fully appreciated for a while yet. It’s massive. And that’s an understatement.
Thank you all for doing the right thing for so long.
Christ it’s been awful. But god damn, is today ever a good day.
You did it. We did it. We all did it.
Bloody hell, Melbourne. We actually did it.
I love you. See you at the pub.
