Coronavirus diary, Monday 3 August

It's coming up to a year since I came to Sunrise and I am starting to take stock of this amazing period in my life.

And much of my thought is about old age. Sunrise is a haven, a retreat for the elder. At 93 I am slightly at the higher end of the scale of our residents' age, but can't match the home's veterans, Cecilia just turned 104 and Ray100 -  or my late mother Gwen at 102.

But who knows? I may yet get a letter from the Queen who is only a few months older than I.

My flat here is a real home from home and although I take part in many of the organised activities I spend most of my time alone.

I have plenty to do to keep me occupied, including writing this diary but I often think of my fellow residents and how they are coping with life.  

My main conclusion is that most of them are coasting along, in a world of their own. 

Of course, I do not know their thinking but they appear to be content doing and saying little.

Of the 70 or so residents, some have memory problems but only a minority seem to take an active interest in anything. At meal times the restaurant is almost silent. The service from the catering staff and the carers is very good, with three course meals mid day and evening but little comment.

At the monthly residents council meetings there is the occasional complaint but little appreciation expressed.

There are far more women than men and they show more interest in what the home offers; almost all the men prefer their own company, some not saying a word to any other resident. As a sociable person I find this disappointing. 

If our carers think so they do not show it.

One of the pleasures of Sunrise for me is their friendliness.

I enjoy a chat and a laugh with them, despite the handicap of masks and shields.

I know I am fortunate. I have been all my life and my experience of old people has many happy memories.

My mother, seen above, was still lively and cheerful at one hundred plus as was my Granny Dymond, over ninety, always lively (below).

I can visualise her now, sitting in her room in Burnaby Street Cardiff, reading the paper, happy to chat with her children and grandchildren.

That is how I see old age.