“Our grandparents have never been more precious”
During lockdown, my parents self-isolated in Watford, while my husband Andy, our three-year-old daughter Millie and I did the same in Market Harborough. No more big family meals at mum’s on Saturday afternoons, or weekends spent eating and laughing together at my new house. Instead, I’d FaceTime them and wait impatiently for my mum, Ellie, to answer. I’d been gate-crashing their dinners via video, calling when I knew they’d be eating. Mum would answer and hold her chunk of tah dig (crispy ‘bottom of the pan’ Persian rice) to the camera and laugh. ‘Mikhori?’ she’d say in Farsi, asking if I’d eat some. When I groaned with the need for the food, she’d instantly feel guilty, wiping away tears, and so would I, the longing to see each other acute.
As we
