I miss Dad every day. But I’m so glad he didn’t live to endure this Covid care home cruelty

When this is all over, when the coronavirus has f i nally scuttled off like a whipped cur and life begins to return to normal, will we be proud of what we did and how we coped as a nation?

Or will a feeling of quiet shame creep across the populace as we contemplate the worst of our Covid crimes — snitching on neighbours, panicbuying flour, not bothering about anyone else. Particularly the not bothering.

especially when we consider what happened to the elderly as the pandemic raged on; those stuck in care homes across the land, cut off from contact with their loved ones, growing older and frailer while alone and confused.

Two images brought their pitiful plight into sharp focus this week.

One was a clip of a woman called Betty, who has actually moved into a care home in Birmingham because she can no longer bear to be without her husband, Kenneth, who has dementia and lives there.

When he came into the room with his walking frame, saw his wife and pushed away the frame to hug her — well, it would take a hard heart not to have shed a tear at their mutual joy.

Ditto the photograph of another loving wife, forced to kneel on a cold and damp november pavement to peer through railings for a glimpse of her wheelchairbound husband in his care home.

AnDit is barely a week since a retired nurse in humberside was arrested by police after she removed her 97yearold mother from a care home before the second lockdown began. My God. What have we become? The battle to keep care homes Covidfree and ensure the safety of vulnerable residents was entirely commendable at the beginning of the pandemic.

But it feels wrong, eight months later, to continue to condemn the elderly to this lonely, demilife — particularly as Christmas approaches.

Many of them have had no meaningful contact with their loved ones since March, which means no familiar, friendly faces, no hugs to say hello, no kisses goodbye.

even the simple but profound solace to be gained from holding a loved one’s hand has been denied them.

And it is hard for the families, too. When my own father was in a care home towards the end of his life last year, it was an enormous comfort to sit there, when conversation became too difficult for him, just holding his big, warm hand in mine.

I miss my dear old dad every day, but I am so glad that he did not live through the constraints of this Covid nightmare, where he might have felt bewildered and abandoned. And we would have been agonised at being unable to see him, too.

The aged and the vulnerable always seem to be way down the list of Government priorities.

Perhaps it is because ministers know that the oldies aren’t going to organise themselves into a furious extinction Rebellion styleprotest, and glue themselves to the Downing Street railings. Sometimes it seems that the officials are more interested in helping pizza chains to survive than doing something positive to help frail senior citizens. And this bleeds out into society, which tends to concern itself with the problems of the young rather than the struggles of the old.

One recent headline even focused on the pandemic making young people easier to radicalise.

There was an eruption when students i solating on a university campus couldn’t get instant access to a hot Pot noodle and a cold beer. Meanwhile, I am tired of reading about the supposed rise of depression among the young, who still have everything to live for. The elderly are just supposed to keep calm and get on with it.

Without emotional support from family, the mental and physical health of the i solated elderly is sharply deteriorating.

BUT surely with a will and determination, there are ways to beat the Covid rules? After all, care home staff go in and out with impunity. Mass testing in care homes to ensure residents can have facetoface visits, and even physical contact, should not be impossible.

Or one relative, friend or carer could be designated as a ‘ key visitor’ and given a Covid pass? Why not?

Finding a solution may be challenging, but surely it is worth the effort. After all, what is the point of another year or so at the end of your life if you are forced to spend it alone?

Christmas is coming, and while it may be too late for another pilot t esting scheme or complicated Government initiative, it is not too late for a little bit of humanity and some common sense.

The miserable situation being endured by some of our oldest, most helpless citizens is shameful. In years to come, when they are with us no more, surely no one wants to look back to the year of Covid and feel that we failed them — and failed them completely.