Half Life - 60 - gaps

Half Life - 60 - gaps

December 24th, 2021

It was tragic. The glorious ash tree, which has grown majestically at the end of our garden for years, had ash die-back. Not just a mild case, but all the way through with no chance of recovery. It had managed to survive the storms but could easily have collapsed, taking out fences, trees, the neighbour’s trampoline, and even parts of nearby houses. Large and dangerous there was no option other than to arrange for its removal as quickly as possible.

Early morning mist floated around the garden as the two-man team set up their equipment for the execution. Watching from the house we saw the ropes, chainsaws, and ladders laid out neatly on the grass, while the huge ‘wood munching machine’ was installed at the front of the house to deal with the soon to be dismembered branches and limbs. Once the surgeons got going it was slick and impressive. We watched the tree come down, carefully dissected piece by piece from the top. It was heart-breaking, saying goodbye to a dear old friend, who has been part of our life since we moved in. The final, massive, ground-rumbling thump as the trunk landed made us all jump and set JJ the dog off on yet another long barking session. Bringing it down precisely between the other trees, the stumpy remains of where its branches had been revealed the dark rot deep inside.

Once the team had gone, the toothless gap between the trees stayed as a reminder of how prominent the ash tree had been, and how its absence will be missed. Our new gap coincided with the decision we had taken to cancel our Christmas plans, creating a two-week space which will need filling. Lockdown, in all but name, had been creeping closer for days as we had heard about relatives falling one aunt at a time to the new variety. Every previous preparation we’d made vanished and a new challenge to keep us all busy over the days to come emerged.  

The new Bond movie is top of the list, now it’s available on-line. Watching it will be held back as either a Christmas Eve or Christmas Day treat, and we have promised Younger Boy there is no snogging in it. The tiny white lie was the only way to get his agreement, so I hope there isn’t too much face sucking for him to endure. Everyone will be relieved when puberty hits him, it will open up a range of movies and TV programmes he has so far refused to watch with us. He even objects to cartoon characters kissing! Board games and cards have been pulled out from their hiding places to distract from screens, and parental hints at the joy of getting stuck into mammoth projects, such as building things or taking up painting, get dropped into every conversation. Fortunately, some omissions on the catering front means that cake and dessert making will be the only route to satisfy holiday pudding demands, offering a perfect opportunity to use up another day with domestic activities.

New preparations to view family Christmas trees via skype or zoom are hastily being arranged, bringing back memories of last year. Dinners will be compared and eaten online, revealing the variety of fridge and freezer gaps. Duck pieces, for us, have already been re-allocated to fill the Christmas gap, mainly for the reason they will go well with the jars of cranberry sauce and our huge stock of frozen vegetables. Chocolate is still plentiful and cautious rationing should see us through.

Other gaps are harder fill and cope with. As we say goodbye to a tree and a year, now ending with a whimper not a bang, it is time to remember the toast my grandfather always used when he raised his glass at Christmas - ‘To absent friends.’  It’s been a tough year, with many holes in our lives left behind by friends and family now filled by memories, thoughts, and photos. I wish everyone who has taken the time to read Half Life a peaceful Christmas, and a much better, safer, and healthier New Year than the year we have had. Thank you for reading. Be well.