My uncle died today, another victim of CoVid.
We commiserate with people, are dismayed when we hear when the numbers rose, sighed with hope that it would soon be over.
But nothing prepared me when it hit home.
I am still reeling, still hoping that my uncle was just in another hospital battling Covid and winning. Not going to happen.
Unable to cry, I’ve decided to write this ode to him who was a father figure to me.
I’ll never forget you, Papa.
Isobelle Cate is a woman who wears different masks. Mother-writer, wife-professional, scholar-novelist. Currently living in Manchester, she has been drawn to the little known, the secret stories, about the people and the nations: the English, the Irish, the Scots, the Welsh, and those who are now part of these nations whatever their origins. Her vision and passion are fuelled by her interest and background in history and paradoxically, shaped by growing up in a clan steeped in lore, loyalty, and legend. Isobelle is intrigued by forces that simmer beneath the surface of these cultures, the hidden passions, unsaid desires, and yearnings unfulfilled. View more posts
Isobelle Cate