23rd February 2021
Welcome back to day two of Lockdown? What Lockdown?
We have a real heart-warmer for you today, so I will just leave you in the capable hands of our anonymous writer.
This morning was a very special morning.
It wouldn’t have been any kind of special a year ago, but a year ago, I didn’t know I wouldn’t see my father for the next twelve months.
For about six years, since my mother died, up until February 2020, my father would come over on Tuesday mornings for a coffee, some cake, and to simply sit and chat; and when COVID-19 hit us, he withdrew from us and stopped coming over.
Three weeks ago yesterday, though, he received his first dose of the vaccine, and has now decided that enough is enough. So, this morning, we started up our Tuesday coffee, cake, and chat mornings again.
The way it started was eerie. It felt wrong, it felt off for some reason. I think it was because we were both behaving as if we hadn’t missed the last 50 or so weeks, chatting about the kids (his grandchildren), talking about plans for the future, discussing whether he would try and find a new woman.
I was half way through a sentence when I spotted his hand was shaking as he placed his mug back on the coffee table. Naturally, I instantly started worrying — worries that weren’t allayed when I looked up and saw his eyes were watering.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” I asked him, the urgency apparent in my tone, I’m sure.
He looked at me and smiled.
“Nothing, my sweetness. Nothing at all. But I’ve made a decision. Whatever happens in the future, promise me that we won’t ever give up these morning together again. They’re far too precious to me.” He told me.
I did promise him as much; I promised him this as I stood up, walked around the coffee table and hugged him like a daughter should always be able to hug their father.
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.