I wondered if you could start by telling me about the original photograph?

The picture was taken on Christmas Eve 2019. We'd had Christmas together for the previous 54 years and it was a tradition we never broke. It was a fabulous event, we went out for a meal and then came back and exchanged gifts here.

Who's in the picture?

It's myself and my dad in the picture. I'd just given him a pair of shoes that we'd gone to a lot of trouble to get for him. My dad was 88 and he was getting old, things were failing. As a son it's really upsetting when parents get older. I would do anything to try and make his life easier. I saw that he was walking badly and he said that the flesh on his feet was getting thinner and thinner and it was painful to walk. So I whipped him down to the Nike store! We fitted him up with a pair of Nike Air Max and it transformed the way he walked.

This was a few weeks before Christmas and I said to him 'Why don't you wear these now?', and he 'No, I've got to wait until Christmas Day.' So even on Christmas eve he wouldn't wear them until the next day!

“He hobbled in, and then pretty soon we were having him trying on lots of pairs and he was virtually running around the store.”

I love the image of your elderly wandering his way into the Nike store! That must have been quite an experience for him?

He'd never been into a Nike store. He'd previously bought shoes that weren't trendy and so he went in and there was music and colour and you served yourself. But he hobbled in, and then pretty soon we were having him trying on lots of pairs and he was virtually running around the store, which was really lovely, really heartening. I felt as though I'd knocked 10 or 15 years off!

I suppose in that sense, being able to do something for him and that sense of mobility was important.

Well yes, and also to give him a Christmas present that he used, because since he passed away, I've been processing his house and I've found 20 years of Christmas presents that have never been used! Still in the boxes, some still with the original wrapping. So I think for his last Christmas present we nailed it!

Any particular highlights in amongst those old presents?

Well, what do you buy your dad? It's pretty difficult, a lot of books, a couple of electric screwdrivers that had never been used. I think there was a sander in there. I could catalogue the years of desperation of trying to find something that he'd actually like!

A friend of mine's grandfather passed away a couple of years ago and they did something similar, looked through his things. They knew that he'd had a little tipple of whiskey each night before going to bed, so that's what everyone brought him! But then when they looked through his cupboards, he had about 20 bottles, which he'd gratefully received, but not been able to get through!

Dad did that an then some. I found bottles of whiskey and wine that he'd not had space for in the house, so were now in the garage. Some were 15-20 years old. I also found about £100 worth of gift cards that had expired. From the same people each year he'd been given the same gift card.

“He was always there to support me and catch me if I fell. I've spent the last three months going to call him every day.”

Just going back to the photo, do you remember who took it?

My daughter took the photo, just an iPhone shot. She'd been caught up in the whole shoe saga, and she was also really pleased that he had the shoes, because she'd been upset to see Grandad walking as he did, but just loved the fact that he'd been persuaded to buy some Air Max shoes, which she thought were really cool!

I wondered if you could tell me a bit more about your dad? Who was he to you? Why was he so special? What was he like as a person?

He was so busy, I couldn't keep up with him. I was half his age, but he was out every night of the week. He would attend choirs, he was in the Greater Manchester Police Choir, the church choir, he was in Probus, loads and loads of organisations. I just don't think he liked being at home.

He was the person I'd known longest in my life, he was always there. He was a bit like Switzerland, he never really offered a view, but he was always there to support me and catch me if I fell or tripped. That's weird. It's three months since he died and I've spent the last three months going to call him every day. Pick up the phone and ask him about this Coronavirus. Oh, I can't talk to him about that. So it's been difficult.

“We were only allowed to see him at the very end with lots of protective equipment. I said goodbye to him and went into the anti-room, where I had to take off all the protective equipment. I was half way through taking it off and he called me back, but I couldn't go back because the room had a positive air pressure. I'll never know what he wanted me for.”

How has it felt losing dad in amongst everything that's been going on with the virus?

Well he was the 12th victim in the UK, so it was right at the very start. The health service and society as a whole didn't know what to do. They didn't know how to process and deal with the virus at that stage. So that was really difficult, because we couldn't go and see him. We were only allowed to see him at the very end with lots of protective equipment, but if he hadn't have had the coronavirus he probably would have been here today, because they would have treated his underlying health issues. It's really really difficult.

He died on Friday 13th, which I just couldn't believe, but the last time I saw him, we'd had a chat and I'd said what a cool dad he was that he'd done a really good job, and he said, "No, I don't think I was that good", which I thought was really sweet. I said goodbye to him and went into the anti-room, where I had to take off all the protective equipment. I was half way through taking it off and he called me back, but I couldn't go back because the room had a positive air pressure, so I'll never know what he wanted me for. That went with him to the grave.

That's tough.

Yeah, over the last few weeks and months we've been through so many emotions, it's like a rollercoaster. The traditional pattern of grief, anger, sadness, elation, it all goes up and down. I seem to go through a trough of this everyday. I try and focus on the good times, we've got lots of photographs at home and as I've been processing his house I've found that he didn't throw anything out! I've found a complete history of 55 years, going through everything. Every toy, every card, every school report, nothing was ever thrown out, so it's felt like an archaeological dig!

“It'll be very odd when the coronavirus pandemic ends, because it has felt like a very intimate time, in that we went into shutdown and I could think about my dad's experience, but it was like a shared experience with the whole of the world.”

I imagine that it will carry on for a little while, as those emotions come and go, things will change as you have more headspace to look through things and engage with them. Some things need to be done now, others can be left for a while.

Yes, I keep going to his house and sometimes it's easy and sometimes it's difficult. I come home and it's quite tough. Of all the things I've found is 20 lever arch files full of paperwork. It's just a measure of different times, it's his entire working career, including all his payslips, memos, notes to the company. I realised that he went through the same trials and tribulations that we do, nothing's changed. That really made me smile, because he had the same experiences that we did, that I'm having now and he still managed to have a good life and not sweat the small details.

There's a lot to be said for that. You talked about picking up the phone to Dad, I went through the same thing. I spent my life with thinking he was some sort of oracle, because I would have a problem and call him and I'd come away within a few minutes I had an answer, resolution or solution, and you don't appreciate that it's because they've been through the things that we're going through and asked himself those questions, that then he can pose a question to you and you feel like you've worked it out for yourself somehow! I don't want to put words in your mouth, but there's this sense of guidance that a dad will offer you that allows you to face things in different way.

“Dad died on the 13th March and from that point on, coronavirus has been on the news every minute of every hour of every day. It was like someone sticking a knife into the wound all the time, there was no escaping from it. As a family we felt properly battered.”

I wondered how it's felt to experience such a personal loss amidst such an international scenario? Have you felt that you just needed to deal with that which is in front of you or does it feel like it's part of something much bigger?

It sounds really odd, but it'll be very odd when the coronavirus pandemic ends, because it's felt like a very intimate time, in that we went into shutdown and I could think about my dad's experience, but it was like a shared experience with the whole of the world. I dread to think of other families going through the same thing that we went through. When someone dies of cancer or a heart attack, it's dreadful, but that's the moment. Whereas my dad died on the 13th March and from that point on, coronavirus has been on the news every minute of every hour of every day. It was like someone sticking a knife into the wound all the time, there was no escaping from it. As a family we felt properly battered.

Normally if you suffer a bereavement you have the support of family and friends, and we couldn't go and see anyone. We were in lockdown before the country, in our own lockdown, so it's been a very lonely time. When we had the problems that we had, we were facing them on our own.

It was so early in the pandemic that we struggled to get him cremated because he had a pacemaker but the hospital wouldn't remove it because once a person with Covid dies they are sealed up. At one point I think my wife was going to bury him in the garden which he would have found completely hilarious. Every step along the way was difficult, it felt as though we were unfortunate pioneers. The first funeral director that we went to wouldn't deal with us. It's been unusual.

In that sense, it's completely unprecedented, to be at the start of things without the jurisdiction or guidelines on how to approach things. Being an unfortunate pioneers is a good way to phrase it. It might be easy enough for people without a personal experience to look at the statistics and see a number, but through doing this I wanted to make it known that there are so many personal relationships going on. This isn't just a number that appears on TV every day after a politician has stood at a lectern.

When the pandemic started off, it was over the other side of the world so we didn't need to worry about it. We were as complacent as everyone else, but suddenly when it hit home, you realise that underlying health issues have this dramatic impact and you can't do anything about it. Very very difficult.

“At his funeral, we only had 10 people there. I'd discovered tapes of him singing so we actually played him singing a song on the way out and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. That was really magical.”

Are there any things that you've had a chance to do to remember or honour your dad? Visiting places or ways to remember him?

Funny you should say that, I've been, almost by accident, but I guess it was subconsciously arranged, going back to a few places that we went together as a family years ago. So yesterday I found myself in a place near Doncaster called Bawtry. We'd been there for a small holiday with lots of friends 45 years ago. I suddenly thought, I know this place, I've been here before. It's little things like that I'm remembering.

We're going to have a memorial service for him and there's going to be a lovely choral event which he would have appreciated. One of the things I wanted to talk to him about was saying, you would not believe that you were on the front of the New York Times, or that he was on Sky or ITN. He would have said, whats all the fuss about! He would have found it all hilarious and probably a bit embarrassing and not wanted to be at the centre of things. I think if we just keep his memory alive with happy thoughts and focus on that.

It can be those simple things, like returning to a place is a simple thing to do, but it evokes an awful lot in terms of memory and sharing somewhere with people that you've been there before with. Being on the international news is there one minute and gone the next, but to be able to return somewhere and hold onto those good and simple times is very special.

My dad also sung in a choir and we had a choir at his memorial service. There's something about having a group of people singing which is extremely evocative and poignant, so I hope that you can treasure that moment when it comes.

I'm looking forward to it, I'm dreading it equally, because I think it will be very emotional. At his funeral, we only had 10 people there and I liked it because it was nice and quiet. I'd discovered tapes of him singing so we actually played him singing a song on the way out and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. That was really magical.