Love The Beach And The Owner Like My Own – Praying For Lockdown To End


The first thing I will do with my hubby and kids after this COVID-19 is over – go to the beach. You got that right. I am a beach lover. Every weekend, and at least an hour during the weekday, I go to this private beach near our home. The beach property is owned by a family friend, and it’s not too big. It has a 45-meter beach frontage, with a little cabin on the land. It was only 3,000 square meters, but the whole place gave me a sense of belonging and completeness.

Actually, my great, great grandfather used to own the land. But a mysterious illness during his time forced him to sell the beach lot to his best friend. His best friend happens to be the great grandfather of the property’s owner right now. Over the years, our family has maintained a special bond, and we have been very close. Now, we can go to the beach at any time, but with this COVID-19 pandemic, I haven’t been there for the last two months. And I am starting to miss it.


Every single day, though, I call the owner. His name is Bob, and he is my father’s true friend. Bob has no kids and no wife. Actually, he is a bachelor, or should I say, my “godmother.” He is gay, and we do not talk about his sexuality. I just know that he loves me like a daughter and that he lives in his house all alone. It is by the beach too, near the tiny cabin I talked about earlier, and I cannot even visit him. Bob is almost seventy, and he cannot go out too. What is do is that I have commissioned this delivery guy to bring goods for him every week, and that includes his medicine. Good thing I taught Bob how to Skype and FaceTime, he calls me any time of the day because I told him so. Looking at Bob, I see my dad. They are so much alike.

And so, one day two weeks, it was almost ten in the morning, and Bob did not call me yet. I initiated the FaceTime, and he did not answer. I was so worried about that because I knew Bob. He was up at four am, reading one of his books, tinkering his scrapbook, or knitting. Bob did not answer. With that, I did not hesitate. I went to his house, even if I was not supposed to go out, and there I saw that Bob collapsed. Of course, I immediately called 911, and the rest happened so quickly.

Bob had a stroke, a major one, and I had to arrange everything from there. I did not want him or me to stay longer in the hospital because it was risky with COVID-19 and all. He had no one too, just me, and so I assumed the position of caring for him.


After two days, I took him home, and I stayed with him for a week. The hubby would swing by, social distancing, of course, and would bring us food. Bob would also FaceTime, the boys. They love him. We all do.

A few days ago, he was on edge and wanted to tell me something. I told him that I knew about his secret and who he is in my dad’s life. He cried and took a sigh of relief. When my dad died, he told me everything about him and Bob. That’s why I knew, and it’s hard not to love Bob. He has been very good to my family and me.

I told Bob that he should rest and be happy that it was “only” a stroke and not COVID-19. We were laughing one moment, and then, total silence. He asked me if I loved the beach, and I said, “You know, I do.”

His only answer was, “Then, it is yours.”

Bob is sick again, and I think he won’t last the month. I just told him to stop talking nonsense. But we both know what it was.

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