"I didn't want to upset people

so close to Christmas. It's been such a bad year for everyone."

Those are the words of an old man who lost his wife of sixty-one years eight days ago.  He had not told anyone, even their own son, of his wife's death because he wanted other people to have happy Christmas.

I don't know him well. I knew his wife a little better - enough that I went to see them yesterday just to wish them a merry Christmas and the hope that they would be going somewhere on the day.  For several years I have just taken in a few pieces of shortbread before Christmas. Once in a while I have returned library books for them and once I took a prescription to the chemist. Really I did not know them well but I knew enough to know their son would not be over from Sydney because he is in quarantine.  I knew they felt too old to travel to him.

So  yesterday I went to see them along with several other people who were likely to need a bit of Christmas cheer.  I went around to the back of the house because both of them had a hearing loss and G... had always said to me, "Come round the back dear. We mostly live in the kitchen these days."

And J.... was there. He was sitting outside the back door on the old chair just staring into space. I knew something was wrong. It was all too obvious something was seriously wrong. He looked so bewildered and so distressed. He tried very hard to pretend but I just said as firmly as I could, "J...there's something wrong isn't there? Can I do anything to help?"

He shook his head and then muttered, "G...'s gone. They couldn't do anything to help."

After he had said that he started to weep. In the normal way I would not even have touched him but I stood there and held him until he had control of himself again and he told me that his wife had woken the morning of her death and told him she was feeling "very peculiar". He had taken her to the Emergency Department and, given her age and her symptoms, they took her in almost immediately. An hour or so later, with him holding her hand, she slipped into sleep and then "simply stopped breathing". 

"They wanted to call someone for me. I told them later. It's Christmas I can't do it to people."

"Does M... know?" I asked. M... is their son. He shook his head. He hadn't even told his son. He had told nobody at all. He had not even put a notice in the paper. Only a couple of people had called and he had just told them G.... was not there. 

Although there was evidence of tea making in the kitchen J... had not been eating, or at least not properly. I made another cup of tea and told him I was going to get him some fish and chips from the excellent shop not far from their home. He looked at me with that same bewildered and confused look.

And then, whether he wanted me to or not, I went into the neighbour who was home and told her what had happened. She was not someone I know at all although I had nodded to her as I went in.

"I thought there was something wrong. I've been meaning to go in - too damned wrapped up in my own life. Yes, you go and get him some lunch if you said you would. I'll go in now."

When I returned with his lunch, his first proper meal in all that time the neighbour was in there talking to his son on the phone. She was being pleasantly concerned and sensible.

"We won't leave him alone on Christmas Day. He might not feel much like it but...."

I found a plate, knife and fork and put the food in front of him. He stared at it and then, slowly, picked up the fork and began to eat. I could see it was an effort. He was doing it to try and please me...but he ate the lot while the neighbour and I did a few essentials. When I left he did something I am sure is out of character for him. He hugged me and said, "Social distancing be damned. You were right lass. I should have told them."

His son phoned me last night. Yes of course he was upset. "It was Dad not telling me...that really gets to me. I'll be there as soon as I can."

That's all that really matters now.