One year on: Star reporter reflects on what it was like to lose someone to this wretched virus

Christmas in my family revolves around my beloved grandparents, Roy and Shirley Sambrook, and we all normally spend at least a couple of days with them at their house in my hometown of Shrewsbury.

My 88-year-old granddad, my family’s tribal elder, had to shield for much of last year due to having asthma and COPD (Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease), and as such, his health was of particular concern to my entire family when the pandemic began to take hold last year.

The limits on the number of people who could gather for the holidays meant that not all of my family would be able to spend Christmas together. And because I felt it was important to limit the risk of infection, where possible, my partner and I decided to err on the side of caution and stay at home in Sheffield.

Instead of the normal festivities, we made do with a Christmas Zoom. It obviously wasn’t the same, but the window that allowed us into my grandparents’ living room meant that we still got to see each other, still got to make silly jokes and even got to enjoy some of my uncle’s singing, which has become a bit of a tradition after a few tipples.

Despite the efforts to prevent it, several members of my family, including my grandparents, caught, and tested positive for, Covid-19, at the beginning of this year.

Within a week, Grandpa was admitted to the Royal Shrewsbury Hospital. We were all terrified when this happened, but he was discharged just under a fortnight later.

He appeared to be making small steps towards recovery, but quickly deteriorated on January 26. Grandpa was readmitted that evening, but despite the best efforts of the wonderful medical staff at RSH, he sadly died in the early hours of January 27 with my sister and my uncle by his side.

As a journalist working throughout this pandemic, I have been acutely aware of the daily Covid-19 death figures that are released by Public Health England each afternoon. While every single death is a tragedy; I, perhaps naively, did not think that someone I loved so very much would one day be included within those figures.

Grandpa was a kind and gentle, yet strong and principled, person who served Shrewsbury as a councillor for 12 years. He was also well known, and well-respected, by many for his decades of work in the motor spares trade; and was a familiar face at Shrewsbury Town’s Gay Meadow and New Meadow grounds for more than half a century.

In the days following his death, my grandmother was truly comforted by the hundreds of people who shared their fond memories of him online. The many, many tributes let us know just how well thought of he was – from those who were lucky enough to call him a friend, to the many he helped as a councillor, to the scores of strangers he made an impression on through the cheerful and charming way he treated absolutely everyone he encountered.

Covid restrictions meant that we could only have a very small funeral service and an even smaller wake, which is completely understandable in the circumstances. We now hope to hold another memorial service, honouring his full and varied life, for all those who loved and respected him as soon as we're able to.

It's been a tough 12 months for us all, and mine is just one of thousands of stories of loved ones who have been lost to Covid.

But as the number of people vaccinated against this wretched virus in the UK nears 28 million, there really - and finally - is light at the end of the tunnel.

We really are so close now, so let's all continue to work together, follow the rules and do what we can to ensure that as many of us as possible make it through to the other side of this pandemic.