How quickly the life of my family has changed and for us, our tomorrows will never be the same.

On April 23, 2020, at 6.35am my father died peacefully with his family by his side.

He had battled with the affects of Parkinsons for 22 years and for his last almost 10 years he was a resident at Harbison Burradoo.

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The love and kindness shown by staff to my dad in his final years until his death is difficult to express in words.

Over the years we experienced his contentment in living there as he enjoyed the best that his life could offer.

Although he became wheelchair bound, badly speech-affected and finally, inhibited swallowing, he remained in hostel middle care.

He considered his room was for rest and respite only and every day he was dressed and readied for the activities that he enthusiastically attended in the centre.

My father was a true inspiration, so you can understand the hurt and frustration that we have experienced, unable to give him the farewell that he deserves and that we would want to provide.

The tentacles of COVID-19 reach far beyond the virus itself, social distancing and isolation laws.

My mum, in particular, had to cease her regular visits to my dad about a month before his death.

She insisted on maintaining his personal washing regime, so she remained outside the building for the bi-weekly clothing exchange.

The lockdown of Harbison is for sound reason as the care of their residents is paramount and we embraced without questioning the decision.

In the final days of my father 's palliative care, on the provision of a medical certificate we were granted entry to be by his side.

We rotated sitting by his bedside, the sound of our voice was of comfort to him and our being there was meaningful to us.

But you could not miss hearing the cries of other residents, particularly during the night, grieving for their loved ones.

They all have televisions, they know about COVID-19 and the lockdown laws, but that doesn't stop the grieving.

They question why their loved ones can't find a way to visit them, even for a fleeting moment.

Their feeling of abandonment is real and the care staff spend many hours sitting with them, talking and providing the kind of comfort that we would all hope for.

But they are not their husbands, wives or children.

Even though my father's death was expected, we were not emotionally prepared for the aftermath.

Harbison's Chaplain was not available and current regulations provide no access for a minister or any religious representative to provide my father a blessing, a prayer or counselling for family.

With restricted numbers only allowed for a funeral, immediate family and those who would be prioritised to attend were isolating in Sydney, unable to leave their homes.

Our devastation, hurt, guilt and sorrow can only be imagined, but we had to make a decision given all the circumstances.

Remember the saying "....there's always the Salvos".

Well we did and they provided us dignity, help and salvation.

They prayed for us and for my dad, a prayer that will remain in our hearts forever.

My mother emailed some beautiful words to family and friends to honour her beloved husband of 50 years.

Included was an invitation to attend a memorial service whenever possible to celebrate the life of this inspirational man; her husband, our father and grandfather, Raymond Richard Stokeld (23/05/1944 - 23/04/2020).

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