With drink in hand, I sat back and pondered

how Christmas had evolved this year.

Family scattered far and near

little chance of room for cheer.

I sipped my wine, a vintage year,

closed my eyes and wandered

through a distorted lens of tear.

Flying in from overseas

hadn't been a trip of ease,

what with required tests and quarantine;

and now a greater lockdown squeeze.

And more than one family was involved,

meaning sharing time to be resolved,

so all partake, so all are seen.

As I contemplated all that and more,

I had become quite suddenly light of head

and as I struggled to reach my bed,

collapsed upon the floor.

I must have phoned, I don't recall

my granddaughter with paramedics in the hall.

It seems pneumonia had paid a call

and of course, that wasn't all.

Some other infections to wounds of yore;

rather than less, best have more . . .

Ten days in bed with little rest

watching the frontline at its best,

feeding, changing, all with care

amid code blue announcements in the air.

Getting better, and still Covid free,

they found four different rooms for me

yet refused to discharge until they were sure

they'd done all they could to cure.

Endless motion without rest,

vitals taken, another test

Christmas came and Christmas left,

all hopes of family now bereft.

Happy, finally able to leave;

days just got another reprieve.

Hopes lost, though a battle won;

What chance now for hugs and fun.

Lenny is my great-grandson,

I'm his great grand-dad.

Since he was born, a few hours together

is all the time we've ever had

Once at nine months, once at fourteen

Enough to see the wonder in his little eyes,

Beyond that, only pictures seen

He'll be almost two this time,

and if it had worked according to plan

I'd be down on hands and knees, to play

on the same floor my kids once ran.

We'd spend golden moments face to face,

building memories that we can trace

through the coming year until again,

we plan and await another plane.

How much longer do I have to see my kids?

Then the telephone rang with encouraging news,

the plane arrived, protocols enacted.

Christmas will be a few days late, but never mind,

the time together might be protracted.

It will just be snacks, no big meal, but we can hug

and touch; the feelings real!

But if gathering still doesn't come to pass,

alas . . .

In my mind I wobble dance down the hall.

There's still a chance for Christmas after all.

I sip my drink and close my eyes,

my trepidation I cannot disguise.