When my mother planned her funeral five years ago she could never have imagined the service at her local church would be streamed live across the world. Covid has changed how we deal with death, before and after. Mum had outlived my father by twenty four years, at 94 she was happy and ready to go. She was the same age as The Queen and David Attenborough, who are still hale and hearty, but that’s the game of life.
I wrote my first Game of Life blog in November 2018; here is part of what I wrote.
We have to leave Summertown, the days of being recycled teenagers are over. There is a very real possibility that Cyberspouse will be outlived by the Duke of Edinburgh and my mother.
https://tidalscribe.wordpress.com/2018/11/07/the-game-of-life/

Cyberspouse outlived my mother by just over a month, he has been outlived by the Duke of Edinburgh. In this Covid world those with terminal illnesses are among the many who have been isolating and shielded at home, not to cheat death, but to have it on their terms. Cyberspouse achieved his aim of never going near a hospital again; happy sleeping a lot and just doing what he felt like doing. For most of those six months we were on our own, though with various medical teams at the other end of the phone. You can read about our life in lockdown here.
https://tidalscribe.wordpress.com/2020/05/20/the-game-of-life-covid-19-edition/
Covid restrictions eased in August and we soon needed to make up our own rules so family could come and help. It was only in the last fortnight that the district nurses and Marie Curie nurses parachuted in; they were marvellous and worthy of their own blog.
There has been plenty of dark humour along the way. Cyberspouse was always adamant he did not want a funeral, very handy as traditional funerals are difficult or impossible with Covid.
Anyone dealing with cancer or illness reading this, don’t let it scare you; every case is different. Friends much older than us, sending sympathy cards, have had cancer and other dices with death years ago… open heart surgeries, body parts removed and they are still here, that’s the game of life.

Colin Campbell Gogerty 24th January 1952 – 2nd September 2020
Coming soon – The Game of Death 2020
Death is something few people want to talk about and yet I see it a little differently. If life is a sumptuous meal then death is the final digestif. A Brandy when the meal is finally over. I want to be able to slowly enjoy my Brandy as I do a little review of my past. If not then it had better be one Hell of a good digestif!
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A lovely thought, though alas we won’t be able to blog about our final digestif unless WordPress has a new block for that. I shall carry on talking about death…
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I have a plan to write my final piece to be posted after my death. Although no one knows the future.
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Oh, Janet, that answers the question I asked you on my blog. I’m so sorry to read of your loss. I’ve just read your first Game of Life blog post. We hadn’t ‘met’ then, or at least we were probably aware of each other in cyberspace but I wasn’t following your blog. It sounds as though Colin went Out of the Game in the way he wanted. Thank you for sharing. Sending love and virtual hugs.
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Thanks Mary, I couldn’t really say until I was ready to write a blog ( the first of several hopefully ) about Colin.
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I appreciate that, Janet.
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Dear Janet. What a poignant and brave approach to the unthinkable but inevitable loss, in the end, of Colin. I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose your life partner. My wife and I have lived though the deaths of 3 of our 4 parents in the last 5 years but my Dad sails blithely on at 98 and is determined to outlast Betty and Phil. Please accept my heartfelt condolences and know that your writing has touched me (and I am sure many others) and made me laugh often. I can only offer you a poem I wrote for a very dear friend who passed away some years ago. https://sixcrookedhighwaysblog.wordpress.com/2019/06/16/now-that-you-are-gone/
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Thanks Doug, writing is a great help. Colin didn’t want a funeral, but he didn’t say I couldn’t write about him! Sounds like your Dad will outlast Betty and Phil!
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He seems determined to give it a crack. 🙂
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Yes, I remeber that poem.
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I am sorry to read this, Janet.
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Thanks Audrey.
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I’m so sorry to hear of your loss, Janet. I’m sure that writing about Colin will be a huge help for you, and look forward to hearing more about him, when you feel ready.
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Thanks Clive, yes there’s lots to write about.
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Sigh, Janet. I’ve been taking a holiday from social media, but happened to scroll past this today. Your attitude and maturity are admirable and a season away from medicalization was a wonderful turn of events, but I am still sorry that you had to experience so much loss at once.
Praying that joy will work its way into your days like sand into beach sneakers. 🙂
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Thanks Joy, I’m glad you didn’t miss my blog.
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I am so sorry for your loss, Janet. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
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Thanks so much Jim.
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Janet, I’m so sorry to hear of your husband’s passing. I hope you find writing is a helpful way to work through your grief.
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Than you Becky, I’m sure writing will be.
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My heartfelt sympathies to you and your family. I had noticed that you haven’t been blogging as much lately, Janet. I’m glad that your husband was able to go out on his terms. I expect writing will be therapuetic for your right now. It was for me when my mom passed two years ago. Like your mom, she was happy and ready.
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Thank you very much Pete and for noticing my lack of blogging! Yes writing will be very therapeutic.
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My deepest condolences for your loss, Janet. May you be surrounded with peace and love through these very difficult times. ❤
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Thank you so much Anita.
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So sorry to hear of your husband’s death. My dad died of cancer back in 1977 aged only 49 and my mum outlived him by 40 years. She too had cancer but lived for 30 years after her diagnosis. I’m still going 15 years after a diagnosis of advanced thyroid cancer, but as you say, cancer is not always fatal. Thanks for adding this to Click & Run.
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Thanks Stevie, there cannot be many families not touched by cancer. Far too young for your father.
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Hi Janet, Sorry to have left my favorite blog posts to pile up while dealing with life, especially your very special post. I hear in your tone that you are feeling okay about things, and accepting. I am sad for your loss, although so glad spouse got his wish to die at home, and hope you are still keeping the positive state of mind as when you wrote this. We are living through such weird and awful times, but know that I’m thinking of you and hoping you’re writing away by the sea.
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Thanks Cynthia for your kind thoughts. yes I’m still writing.
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It seems wrong to ‘like’ your post, Janet but I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re keeping on, keeping on. Cyber hug sent.
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Thanks so much.
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Thoughts and prayers… ❤
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Thanks Bette
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