Coronavirus log: I miss my family but I'm one of the lucky ones
Reporter Rhoda Morrison reflects on the difficulties faced by families who are forced to stay apart during the coronavirus crisis.
Over the years, I've become used to not being able to see my family everyday.
Having only lived at home in Glasgow for one year out of the last six, and now living the best part of 400 miles away, it has become the norm for me to miss my family and stave off homesickness with daily FaceTime and phone calls.
It is through these that I learn how my mum and dad have spent their days, how my brother, sisters and brother-in-law are getting on at work and how much my little one-year-old nephew Louis has grown in the months since I last saw him in person.
As a result, the coronavirus guidelines, which prohibit family members living in different houses from seeing each other, are probably easier for me to digest.
Despite being forced to cancel my family's annual trip to the Scottish Highlands last week and instead spend my week off work reading and watching Disney+ at home in Newmarket, it doesn't seem that much out of the ordinary for me to be way down here and them up there.
I can't imagine how weird it must feel for those like my mum, for example, who lives a five-minute walk from my big sister and her husband but can't go round and visit. And how weird it must feel to hold family quiz nights on Zoom knowing that if all was well, they'd all be in the same room sharing the same bottle of wine.
Although I find it difficult to get my head around the fact that it could still be many weeks or months before I'm able to hop in the car and brave the A1, by which time the Scottish summer - if there is any - could be long gone, I know that I am in a lucky position to be able to lift the phone and speak to my family whenever I like.
I know that there will be people not only living much further away from their families than I do, but ones who are having to leave their loved ones who are suffering with coronavirus to fight for their lives alone.
My thoughts go out to all of those for whom this crisis has meant never seeing their loved ones again and I can't wait to get back up to Scotland to hug mine that little bit closer once it's all over.