Coronavirus diary, Monday 20 July

Rosemary, Robert and Beverley, Christmas, 1970

Looking forward to Christmas is one of life's pleasures and the prime minister is encouraging us to do so this year despite coronavirus.

We all hope his optimism is justified and that the normality he predicted is realised.

I know I will  enjoy it after my experience last year, my first at Sunrise. As with everything, they are great organisers.

We will have our Christmas tree dominating the foyer, lavish decorations, very special meals, games and gifts.

We all have memories of past Christmases and at 94 - my birthday is in November -  I have so many. 

Too many to recall in detail, happy, family affairs. 

They got even better as the years passed, with children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren adding to the joy.

The first Christmases I remember were when we came to Cardiff from London to join my mother's large family, the Dymonds.

We had great parties in one of my uncle's home just up the road in Cyncoed from where I live now.

After we moved to Cardiff in 1941 there were family get 
togethers  over the years in Cardiff, Braydon in Wiltshire with Beverley and the Wildeboers and Chalfont St Giles in 
Buckinghamshire with Robert and Karen's family.

One, in Penarth with Rosemary's parents, was abandoned when we had to turn back to our home in Caerphilly due to snow.

A white Christmas was rare - we had one in London in 1970.

Whatever our age, one of the thrills of Christmas is presents. 

As children we cling on to our belief until disillusion comes.
I vividly remember, in the 1920s when my brother, sister and I would wake up early to find bulging pillow cases at the end of our beds.

We would excitedly try to work our from the shapes the  treasures inside. 'I've got a football' I cried one year.
Fifty years later Rosemary was led out of our house to find her  present on the drive - a car bedecked with ribbon. Far from new but polished and ready to go.

Bob with 2 year old Ria, Christmas 1984

Newborn Ben with Rosemary and Bob, Christmas 1989

The ultimate presents for the family were Christmas babies, my grandson Ben and great-granddaughter Rosa. 

We learned of Rosa's arrival from an email sent by Beverley when Rosemary and I were on a cruise in the Caribbean.

Owen's first Christmas, 2008

The saddest Christmas was 1942 when my father, Frank, died, 52. His funeral was on Christmas Eve. 

But my mother Gwen was able to enjoy another fifty Christmases with her large family.

Christmas 2020 will be like no other but, we hope will be a happy - and healthy - one  for all to enjoy.