I love my Dad

Anthony gave a heavy sigh. Even at the tender age of fifteen it felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. All he craved was a normal young adult’s life, but he realised that this became less likely by the day. He sat there drumming his fingers on the table and twirling his already curly hair. He was looking for inspiration, but more than anything he was looking for the strength to get him through from one day to the next.

He knew the warning signs; heaven only knows he had seen them enough times. His beloved father was about to have a panic attack. Anthony shuddered at the thought of how this would manifest itself this time. There was no escaping the fact that these episodes were getting more frequent and more frightening. It didn’t take a trigger anymore; his father could react to his mind at any time. For now, he had a respite. His father had gone for the weekly shop. Unfortunately, he had been gone quite a while so Anthony knew that very shortly his father would need all of his attention. Sure enough Anthony had no sooner rinsed out his mug than he heard the key in the door. As his father walked in Anthony knew there was a problem.

His father’s skin had gone grey, and his face carried a very worried frown as he stood muttering to himself. He placed a newspaper on the table for Anthony for to read.

 “I can’t cope”, his father muttered as he swayed back and forth. He collapsed into the nearest chair and began to sob.

Anthony read the front-page, fear filling his entire body. He felt sick as his young mind took in the full consequences of what he was reading. He was a bright young man, and he understood the basic meaning of the word pandemic. He certainly knew the effects on his father’s life and ultimately his own. Anthony stood, his mouth open in shock as his father tried to explain. Ordinary people had given up their normal lives and had started fighting over things like toilet rolls and flour. There was not a single toilet roll or nappy to be had. People had resorted to standing up and having offensive arguments with complete strangers over such like as a packet of fish fingers. Stores had taken on extra security staff as shop workers were abused and threatened. The country had even resorted to rationing certain items. There were massive queues outside shops as the number of people allowed in was cut. This of course was causing more civil unrest. The prime minister had put the entire country in lockdown. Everybody had to wear a face covering. To put it bluntly, life as we knew it had performed an emergency stop.

 Anthony couldn’t begin to imagine how his father had been affected by this. One of his main problems was change; he needed routine. The thought of some little old lady being unable to get a loaf of bread would have had a profound effect on him. Anthony sat next to his father who had been through and was still going through so much. Despite the restricted lifestyle he now had to embrace the fact that he still loved his father dearly. None of it was his fault; he was caught in a situation he did not understand.

He took his father’s hand.

“Right, Stan the man, how do we cope with all this?”

Anthony knew that calling his father ‘Stan the man’ always seemed to lighten the mood. His father looked at him over the top of his glasses and chuckled.

“You call me that again and I will take you down to Tesco and feed you to the lions.”

Anthony made a cup of tea while his father read the newspaper. Then, as they sipped the hot sweet tea, they discussed what they had read.

“They are talking about thousands of deaths, and this carrying on for months. How will we manage?” his father began.

“Look, let’s be realistic here. We’re talking weeks not months. The government are panicking far too early” Anthony tried to sound reassuring but there was trepidation in his voice.

“I hope you’re right, son, I really do. But in the meantime, we need to lock the front door and not go out. I want you to switch our everyday lives to being on-line. Set up the shopping, all our bills, prescriptions everything so it’s all done automatically. I can’t bear the thought of either of us being in hospital. I couldn’t cope. We MUST stay indoors for the foreseeable future.”

“But Dad, I’m fifteen, I need a life outside these four walls”, he protested strongly. He just hoped he was right and that it would be a few short months before it was over. But he instinctively knew he may be losing the argument.

“Listen here son,” said his father in a strong authoritative voice, “if you’re not careful here you won’t see sixteen so please trust me on this one.”

“But dad, we live in a two-bedroom flat four floors up. Can’t you begin to imagine how hard this will be? We will become prisoners in our own home!!”

“Yes, I can see that. But thousands of people of all ages are going to be just the same. Be grateful you don’t live in a cardboard box.”

With that he rose to his feet and locked the front door, carefully putting the key in his pocket. It was the beginning of what would be one of the most traumatic periods in both their lives.

There were no newspaper deliveries, and the TV news was restricted to ten minutes every evening. Any more was like watching a horror film as the whole world collapsed around them. Every day was just the same, to such an extent that they both lost complete track of the date or even the day. The world had just stopped, and nothing seemed to matter. Just managing to cope, minute to minute, hour to hour, was hard.  Anthony and his father started talking properly for the first time. He was astounded to learn the reason for his father’s limp. He had been knocked down and nearly killed by a stolen car before Anthony was born. He had to re-learn how to sit up in bed, then stand up, and ultimately walk again. This had taken many months, but his need to protect and provide for his family was his driving force. That was all that mattered. He never talked about it because, in his eyes, what would it achieve?

Anthony was amazed at the strength and courage of his father. He never realised, and in truth, if it were not for the pandemic, he never would have. But he felt so proud to call this man his dad. It provided a bond between the two that there never really had been before, and which they would certainly need over the next few difficult months.

 Anthony talked to his father about his wish to join the police force. Any parent would have misgivings about such a challenge, but because they could now discuss it properly, his overprotective father embraced the idea. It was not as daunting as Anthony had feared and it provided him with confidence and a desire to give it a real go. It occurred to him, since lockdown and the fact that they had spent more time together, that his Dad appeared more settled. The mood swings and the frustration appeared to be happening less. A few weeks ago, if he had mentioned leaving home, his dad would have exploded.

Anthony had never known or talked about his father’s parents, but he was soon caught up in the history that surrounded his relatives, how his grandfather had been a coal miner, the working conditions, the sense of community and the love that bound them all together, the constant struggle for money and ultimately the severe chest problems that working down a pit inevitably brought.

His grandfather had been forty-eight when he died. No age at all Anthony sighed. So sad. He had to rub his eyes when his father showed him a photo. It was if Anthony was looking in a mirror. It brought a tear to his eye when he thought of the sacrifices his grandfather had made for his family.

Then his father produced a real shock. Anthony had an uncle and three cousins living in Australia. Why had his father never thought to mention this? But then, had Anthony ever really shown any interest anyway? He certainly was interested now.

As the days, weeks and months rolled on, Anthony and his father found themselves taking less and less interest in the day to day lives of other people. They were just locked away in their own little worlds where time stood still, and other people were out of reach. It was a case of each family finding the best way for them to muddle through, and if that meant treating each day the same, then who had the right to judge?

Anthony reckoned they had been home for around six months. The lovely summer nights had gone and it seemed like autumn was well underway. The leaves were falling, and children busied themselves collecting conkers. The nights were cold and dark and there were fire works and bonfires lighting the night sky.

Out of the blue one evening his father suddenly said, “I never asked you but do you miss your Mother?”

Anthony, taken aback by the question, took a few seconds to think of a response.

“Of course, I do. Remember though, she had been ill for two years and I was only twelve when she died. I just wish I’d had the chance to get to know her better”.

“Oh, I know it was such an awful time. She didn’t deserve to suffer like that, and you, young man should not have had to watch it happen.”

“I tried talking to her”, said Anthony, “but it was so hard to know what to say.”

His father smiled, “Just your being there spoke a million words. Seeing you each night gave her something to look forward to. All the pain and hurt she felt went away for those few minutes”.

“What about you dad? How are you managing?”

“I do try,” he said “but my confidence is shot to pieces. When things happen now, I panic. I have no one to tell, you see. That lady, your mother, was my life. I promised I would always look after you and I do try, but I am so frightened of losing you as well that everything is so much harder. We had such plans for you, but life can be so cruel.”

Anthony gently squeezed his father’s hand.

“Don’t worry Stan the man, we’re going to start managing a lot better. Both of us.”

“And when did you become so grown up and responsible? With everything you’re supposed to be, all crazy and mixed up?”

Anthony smiled. “First thing in the morning I am going to phone the doctor and try and get your medication sorted. Then I think we should have a walk out and see how the world is managing. You know what, I have no idea what day or date it is. It hasn’t   seemed to matter much, but I think we are both in a better place now somehow. This pandemic, for all it’s suffering, has made you and me stronger.

“Life’s what you make it, dad, do you realise that now?”