1 January, in the year of our Lord 2023
Lords Day. Up betimes and, by the Messenger, that Mr. Jones hath heat, his boyler working. Today my father slept very long, and was not eating, and when he woke he told me openly, to my great sorrow, that he hath had enough. In the evening watched a wretched comedie called Happy Valley, but it did not make me any happier.
2-4 January, in the year of our Lord 2023
A little improvement in my fathers health. I was much contented to find him sitting upon the side of his bed to exercise his breathing, the physical Therapists with him; and, in better spirit and among a little other discourse, he told me that he hath placed in his coach house a mattress, and some matter about it that I should understand, but his voice being very weak and with his wearing of the masque that delivered his fortified air, I did not, only did my best to assure him that all will be well. On Tuesday he was in Hospitall three weeks.
Thence home, where my mind turned to the dilemmer pertaining to the Conservatoire, it not being clear how matters will run: God willing, that my father’s improvement continue, but not withstanding if it does or not, he will not be able to care for my mother any more, as he hath done valiantly these last years. Mr. Jones again feared for his boyler, for Mr. Bett hath been around the streets with his bell, handing out yellow leafletts for rain.
My father at his best on Wednesday, when he eat a little more.
Pepys: the Covid Diaries (2020- ) 