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Day 1
13 March, 2020
My decision was immediate.
The virus is now spreading throughout Swedish society. It has been established without any doubt. I have practically lived with you since Christmas already, while waiting for you to get a place at a dementia care home. But after a long independent life, you would rather continue your life here, at home, and you've just turned down the third offer from the municipality. That was probably a good place, perfectly okay. I had a look at it. You didn't even want to enter, sat outside. I started crying in the head nurse's room. Afterwards, I regret exposing myself like that, thinking that it's not a good start. Not at all. So, I accept your "No", legitimize it. At the same time, I know that the situation is no longer manageable, it's getting impossible. We must find a solution.
Then, suddenly, the virus changes everything. I shut down my own house in Stockholm, ask the neighbour to water the plants and take care of the mail and I move 330 kilometers south. I move. Home to you. To the room where I grew up, as a little girl. Sure, it looks completely different now, but still, it's my nursery room. We cancel the home care service for a while. They still bring lunch every day, but put it on the porch outside.
"I understand that there are strong emotions involved here, but I don't think you're aware of the consequences of your actions," says my partner when we wave goodbye.
No, I don't. But it's an easy decision. I just know that I don't want you to get sick and suffocate, we've learned by now that the virus effects the lungs. It's scary.
A conversation with investigative reporters Stefano Valentino and Giorgio Michalopoulos, who have dissected the dark underbelly of green finance for Voxeurop and won several awards for their work.
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