Day 15.
The cast:
Me
‘The undertaker’ (husband)
‘On the ground in France’ (son)
‘Office darling’ (daughter)
‘Nearly 90’ (mother)
This morning begins with a friend ringing on the bell with his
dog straining on the leash. I go to the window and mouth ‘go away’. In whose
mind could this be construed as ‘lovely to see you’? Watch my facial
expressions, observe my body language as I fold my arms over my white towelling
dressing gown. His mouth fell open in disbelief. ‘Oh MY God’ he gasped, not
dressed, no makeup and your fringe…’You have let yourself go love’. I could
hear the laughter all the way up the road as he continued his early morning
walk.
Bad habits are slowly creeping in. Normally I have two Ryvita’s
with a boiled egg for breakfast, but hot buttered toast has snuck its way in
midweek. The utterly divine Cornish butter which was partly responsible for
this lapse has been replaced by some unheard of spread from Denmark.
Last night was a riot. I’d ‘found’ a 200ml bottle of
champagne in the knackered old fridge in the shed, which I try to avoid as it
has a horrid aroma. I thought ‘The undertaker’ deserved a glass of chilled
bubbly (goodness this is turning me into a softie) after doing the ‘prescription
run’ and going from chemist to chemist for urgent supplies. One glass and it
was a ‘free for all rant’. Who needs TV? Best of all is taking off friends and
family. ‘Who’s this’? you might cry taking a large swig from a glass and
falling to the ground or pulling a pinched face and crossing your legs?
My sense of humour had evaporated into the darkness of the
night this morning. On opening the dishwasher to put in a pile of dirty dishes
I discovered it was FULL of clean ones. ‘Someone’ must have already opened it
and closed it rapidly. It’s the sort of trick I would have once pulled…Once,
before I became so caring and sharing.
Its cold and grey today, not many people out on the streets
taking daily exercise but there is certainly an increase in traffic. Yesterday ‘Office
darling’ had queued for prescriptions and been shopping for ‘nearly 90’. She drove
past our house on her way home and pulled up. Getting out of the car she lobs a
packet of hot cross buns at us. We laugh wildly, an elderly lady timidly walks
past. ‘My daughter’ I explain. She smiles, ‘how lucky you are’ she says, ‘I have
no-one’. This hits home really hard. Today I see a Morrisons ‘rescue plant’ ‘Office
darling’ had bought and planted in the garden, it’s flourishing! I resolve to
send her a photograph.
Morale must be kept up at all costs. I couldn’t face putting
on my jeans again so pulled out a mustard velvet dress from Boden. Immediately
my spirits rose, such a small change and yet it boosted my resolve to keep
upbeat. It was slightly ‘snug’ but as any fool could tell you it’s the washing
machine that is responsible for that.
‘The undertaker’ arrives home. Work is easing off; funerals having
changed so drastically. ‘Don’t be a dick, stay at home, don’t let your loved
ones die alone’… Most apt. Before he has
time for tea and hot cross buns, another request comes through for urgent
medical supplies from one of the ‘golden oldies’. When in the queue he gets
chatting to a ‘most agreeable’ nurse who explained she was caring for her
elderly parents prior to returning to work in a week’s time, ‘just in time for
the peak’ she explains. This is when ‘The undertaker’ goes back on call too,
no-one knows what to expect. Anxious times on all fronts.
The sun is out, hurraaaah! Do we have time for a walk? Sadly not, instead
back to the chemist. This is our life and it’s a good one, we are safe at home
not stuck at home!
I go out into the garden and unpeg the washing. We light the
daily fire for the Government’s daily briefing. We discuss this evenings
supper. We try and avoid the supermarket at all costs now, when this is all
over will our habits have changed drastically? will we stick to them? I
hope so.
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