In the midst of the virus, life goes on.

Yesterday morning my Dad rang to break the news that his partner of two years had been diagnosed with “terminal cancer”.

She’s not long turned ninety so both she and my Dad have been self-isolating.  She was alone when she was given the news and he was alone when she gave him the news in a brief phone call. 

My Dad choked on the word “cancer” as he told me the news.  How difficult it is to say that word when it’s personal.   He didn’t know any details as yet but sensed it sounded bad what with the involvement of Macmillan Nurses.  I wanted to go and see him, give him a hug but couldn’t because of this damn virus.  I’ll ring him today and see how he is when he’s had chance to absorb the news, find out more.

30 years of service

Some hours later Mrs Jones came home from work at the end of a very special day, it was 30years ago that she started work at her current place of employment.

She was applauded as she arrived at work, the office had pictures – some not entirely flattering – of her through the ages and her desk was decorated with 30 year bunting.  The big boss even made her not one but two cups of tea.

She got various gifts, there was the obligatory speech and she had congratulatory calls and emails from colleagues throughout the day.

The fact that fewer people were at work because of the virus made the anniversary more personal she said.  I think she could feel the love and respect of her colleagues, something I very much share too. What an achievement it is to work somewhere for 30 years and it was lovely to see it honoured appropriately.

Clap for carers

Later, at 8pm we were one of the millions of people who stepped outside our front door to clap for carers and our NHS. There was a good response with most neighbours out, Mrs Jones even did an uncharacteristic whoop. 

As the sound of clapping and cheering reverberated up and down the street I felt moved to tears, something that’s been happening a lot lately.  I also had the sense – as you do sometimes – that I will remember this moment for the rest of my days.

Life goes on but not as we know it.

Published by brianjonesdiary

Dad, husband, brother and son. Interested in travel, politics, sport, health and much more. Semi-retired and aiming to making the most of life as I approach my sixth decade.

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