One redoubtable lady I know died in intensive care a few days ago. Neither her husband nor children nor grandchildren could be with her in her final days.
The most natural impulse in the world, to rush and be with someone you love, is denied. The woman’s shell-shocked widower is now at home alone. Family members dare not support him in his sorrow in case they are asymptomatic carriers and kill him too.
How long before our old people rebel? Why wouldn’t you decide that ‘staying safe’ is hardly worth it if such time as you have left lacks what makes life worth living?
The technical term ‘social distancing’ gives no sense of the loneliness and heartbreak for so many. My biggest fear is that I will never see my mother again. If this isn’t over by her 84th birthday in August, I swear I’m going to drive to south Wales and take her for fish and chips in Burry Port.
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