Events in Haiti this past week have shown a tragedy on a scale beyond imagining. And they totally eclipse some of my current concerns – final editing of my forthcoming book; safety on the icy roads; wallpapering our staircase. When thousands of people are without homes or loved ones, water or medicines, why would anyone worry about a displaced comma or the style of an acronym? When whole communities lie in ruins, who cares if wallpaper is spirit-level straight? When people lie crushed beneath collapsed buildings, broken wrists and ankles seem like small fry. Yes, Haiti has had a profound impact.

It was the same with the Boxing Day tsunami, the collapse of the twin towers, the Lockerbie disaster, the Dunblane massacre … Overwhelming reactions. A compulsion to do something. Yes, we pledge money; prayers have a new earnestness; a few dedicated people may actually go to the danger zone to give their all; we set ourselves new priorities. But then … we move on, we return to our complacent lives, dwell on our own concerns, pursue our own trivial ambitions and dreams. Our species just can’t live their lives at such a peak of intensity. So I want to reflect before the spotlight fades.

Haiti has flicked the switch, but other things have happened during this past few days which have helped to focus the glare, and reminded me of important truths.

• A friend died suddenly and unexpectedly – how important it is to say all the things we want to say now, before it’s too late.
• The official apology to the victims of the Thalidomide tragedy came 50 years after the event – a sincere ‘Sorry’ means a lot.
• The new TV Book Club aired its first episode on More4 – anticipation is often more fun than realisation.
• A 59-year old woman is set to become the oldest to be offered fertility treatment in the UK – just because we can doesn’t mean we should.
• A former nurse is on trial for assisting her daughter to die – these cases highlight the horror when every choice is a tragic choice; the victims need our sympathy not our judgement.

I’ve just made the very last correction to the final draft of Remember, Remember. The last vestiges of the snow are melting. And the staircase is finished. But the devastation of Haiti will reverberate for years. I hope its impact on me will last too.