Tag: Family

Is ‘someone up there’ really looking down on me….?

It is a while since I have written a blog and that’s partly due to being busy with our new home, meeting new people, partly a lack of ‘inspiration’. Prompted by a note from Dr Michael Ward of Swansea University, who setup the CoronaDiaries Project of which mine is part, I did think about doing one more blog about the pandemic. The two-year anniversary of my first blog seemed a good time to revisit the topic. However, events of the 5th of March 2022 prevented me from writing that blog and are the inspiration for this one.

The simplest way to start is to reproduce the ‘incident report’ sent by Mark, one of the Run Directors (RD) of Delamere Parkrun, which I ran on that never-to-be-forgotten Saturday morning….

Ian Skaife collapsed around 1.2 miles into today’s run at around 9:15. He was immediately attended to by the following: June who was just in front of Ian and heard him fall, June’s partner Matthew, Nikki who was a little behind but did not see him fall. Nikki is a medical nurse (an unknown passing runner, not in Parkrun, who was also a doctor was in attendance and stayed until the paramedics arrived).

Around this time an unknown person called an ambulance.

Nikki reported there was no pulse and Ian was not breathing. Between herself and June and advice from the unknown doctor, they opened his airway and administered CPR for perhaps the next 15 minutes or so. Ian occasionally restarted breathing for a short while, but Nikki did not detect a pulse at any time she checked for one.

Shortly after the incident, perhaps at 9.20 the tail-walker (Liz) arrived who called the RD Andy. I was standing next to Andy when he received the call. At 9:22 I made a call to the Forestry Commission(FC) office. They collect the AED (Automatic External Defibrillator) and drove to the incident – the main FC contact on the day was Liam at Forestry England. I left on foot to the incident and was joined by marshal Katherine who is a medical doctor.

The FC team arrived at the incident at around 9:30 and on arrival immediately deployed the AED once. This was successful in initiating a pulse. Very shortly afterwards the paramedics arrived by which time Ian was conscious and had achieved some sort of satisfactory stability.

I arrived at the scene around 9:37 and called Ian’s ICE (In Case of Emergency number) from his wristband at 9:39. The ICE is his wife Alyson Skaife who informed me Ian was with his son, Mike Skaife (now at the finish), who Alyson then called. Mike appeared at the incident perhaps within 10 minutes.

By 9:50 Ian was on a stretcher, breathing himself and able to talk and knew where he was. The paramedics had been joined by air ambulance paramedics, though the helicopter had to land around a mile away (as we are in a forest).

At around 10:10 Ian left the immediate area in an ambulance to be taken to the helicopter which left with Ian around 10:25 for Stoke Trauma Unit.

Even now as I read the report it almost brings me to tears. I have no memory of the day other than arriving at Delamere and parking the car. I made it to the start where I met up with my son Michael. I can remember talking to a Crusader, a lady with a Superman top wearing a blue tutu and a couple of nuns! Alyson had to tell the nurse in A&E that I wasn’t hallucinating as the run was fancy dress to celebrate the 9th anniversary of Delamere Parkrun’s first event.

Mike had helped the paramedics get me into the air ambulance – apparently an older lady was nearly blown over after not getting out of the way as the helicopter took off from the crossroads where the traffic had been stopped. Alyson had been working at a pharmacy in Gobowen when she got the call from Mark and left immediately and drove to Mike’s in Northwich where they drove together to Stoke. It was the second time in almost 10 years that Alyson & Mike had sat in the family area of the hospital waiting to see if I made it. For those who don’t know what happened in 2012 you can read my blog from 2019.

https://skatchat.wordpress.com/2019/10/06/the-long-story/

I am relying on what Alyson & Mike have told me happened after leaving in the air ambulance as my next memory is waking up on Sunday morning in the Cardiac Care Unit (CCU). The junior doctor had written me a note telling me that I was in Stoke and they diagnosed that my heart stopped due to blocked artery and they had started me on some more medication. Alyson had written on the end of the note ‘Middlesbrough won 2-0’!
Back to A&E ‘Resus’ where I kept saying ‘Did I come in a helicopter? and Mike answered yes and I said ‘What a shame I missed that’. Over and over again! They decided to scan my brain for a head injury, but the image hadn’t changed since my last one in 2013. Alyson was pleased that I hadn’t been running in Oswestry as a) the defibrillator is not as close (note 9 April 2022 – having volunteered there yesterday I know this is not true as there is a portable one at the start), b) the ambulance service in rural Shropshire is not as responsive and c) they might have taken me to Shrewsbury Hospital which, although I wouldn’t have been in the recently sanctioned maternity unit, doesn’t have a good reputation. If they didn’t have my scan from 2012-13 goodness what they would have made of my slightly mushed brain!

Stoke is also where I had been diagnosed with angina in early 2021 so they were aware of that. I had been signed off after a ‘stress test’ in July when I went on the treadmill wired to an Electrocardiogram (ECG). Although I was due to have another test this coming July, as one of the A&E doctors remarked I had done my own stress test and failed spectacularly.
Alyson & Mike stayed with me until early evening and weren’t offered any drinks or food and didn’t want to leave me in case another doctor came with information. Eventually I was admitted to CCU and they sat with me there a while.

CCU Royal Stoke

CCU is a ward of bays in a circle around a central nurses station. It is not a quiet place as we were all wired to heart monitors with electrodes attached to several sticky pads over our chests reporting to a central screen. Alarms were going off each time a lead came loose, and I was confused as I thought it was mine that was setting them off, so would try not to move. Also on my chest were two large sticky pads from the defibrillator used in the forest. The device made sleeping difficult but I was grateful just to be there. Alyson visited me later in the day and I started to learn more about what had happened.

Alyson and Michael had gone back for my car on Sunday morning as it was still parked at Delamere. Alyson parked outside the administration offices and saw Liam who had taken the AED and he was pleased to hear how well I was doing. He admitted than when he first got there and saw the medics working on me he didn’t think the ending would be good. Alyson thanked him on behalf of all of us, and only this week I emailed him to tell him how well I am doing. Often people who help others never find out what the outcome is, and that is a shame.

Alyson visited me later that day and brought my phone in so I was able to message friends and work colleagues to tell them what had happened to me. Mike was frustrated that only Alyson was allowed to visit me due to Covid-19 restrictions, and our other son David – who had been rowing with his club in Bath and left ready to come up when Alyson called him on the Saturday morning – had to make do with a Zoom update on the Sunday evening. Since the pandemic started we had been having a weekly call often with a short family quiz. I may have been able to join on my phone that evening, but was very tired and sore.

The soreness was something that, when the nurses asked me how I was feeling, I told them I was grateful for. It showed that Nikki, June and Matt and the unknown doctor had done a good job. A few weeks previously Alyson had attended a CPR and defibrillator use course, and told me that it was physically hard, and not something one person could do for more than a few minutes. Alyson had also text June & Nikki to thank them for what they had done. I sent an email to the ‘Core Team’ of volunteers at Delamere who I know well having volunteered there many times over the years. These ‘Hi-Viz Heroes’ as we call them in the Parkrun family are the reason events are free every week. I told them in the message that I was well and thanked them for what they had done.

On Monday Alyson came over in the afternoon but didn’t get to see me for long as I was taken down to what is called ‘The Lab’ to have a stent fitted. This was something that I had been due to have last July, but they decided my blood vessels were ‘perfect’. This time the situation had changed, so it was a case of putting one in to be sure. As it turned out my temperature was too high, so I was back on the ward after Alyson had left.

The next morning my temperature was fine and my bloods were ok, so I was back in the lab and this time the stent fitting was successful. As Dr Gunning my consultant said ‘that’s the plumbing sorted, all we need to do now is find a good electrician to sort you out…’. Alyson visited me later in the afternoon after tutoring pharmacy students at nearby Keele University. After getting up at 5am to travel there she said the work kept her busy, and took her mind off what was happening to me. She had also been very busy, as people often are when someone is in hospital, having to phone family and friends and taking calls from people asking how I was doing.

The ‘electrician’ turned out to be Dr Baynham who came to see me when Alyson visited on Wednesday, by which time I had been moved to a nicer room on a nearby ward. The room had been a ‘day room’ before the pandemic where patients could sit and watch TV and had panoramic views overlooking the helicopter landing site. It was converted to a 3-bed bay and was light and comfortable.

Dr Baynham said the plan was to give me an implantable cardioverter defibrillator (ICD) which would deliver a shock should my heart fail again. There were possible side effects such as infection, and it giving me a ‘shock’ when it wasn’t needed, but overall it seemed a good solution to my issue. I needed an app on my phone to send data from the ICD back to Stoke – Alyson was disappointed that it wouldn’t allow her to turn me off and on.

The procedure was planned for Friday afternoon confirmed at the ward round Friday morning. The device was fitted at about 3pm under a local anaesthetic. Due to the blood thinners I was on the surgeons struggled to get it under my collar bone in a ‘pocket’ they cut into my chest muscle, but eventually they managed. An X-Ray about two hours later confirmed it was in place with wires to my heart, and by 8pm my discharge letter and medicines were ready. Alyson came to pick me up and drove me home for 10pm. I slept in my own bed.

For the first few days home I was very sore and couldn’t sleep well on either side. This was both from the bruising to my chest and ribs from the CPR and the scar and the device under my left shoulder. I was also very weary from the whole thing, and this added to my ‘usual’ fatigue from the brain injury. I often have a short 40-minute nap during the day, but now needed one morning and afternoon. But it felt great to be home with Alyson.


The NHS had done an amazing job in the 5 days since I was admitted. I underwent two procedures, and the surgeon told me the ICD cost £30,000 (not sure if that is the cost of the device only or for the surgeons, operating theatre and nursing care). The care of all the nurses, doctors, pharmacists, physios, catering and cleaning teams was fantastic.

I sent WhatsApps to June and Nikki from Parkrun telling them that I was home and what had been done to me. I also said I was very grateful for the pain I had in my chest which showed that they did a great job! I said that without them I am certain that Alyson, Michael & David would be planning my funeral. Both sent gracious replies and June said although it was her slowest time for a Parkrun as they all took an hour and 14 minutes by the time they got back to the finish, ‘it would always be a personal best (PB) for a different reason..’ It had only been her 3rd run, and she nearly didn’t go, as it is her partner Matt who was the runner. I said that I hope that what happened wouldn’t put her off doing another!

The following weekend we had planned a trip to some cottages outside Scarborough in the north east where we have been many times. I felt strong enough to make the journey but as I can’t drive for 6 months Alyson had to do it all in our new all-electric car (the story of ‘range anxiety’ is for another blog!). We had planned to do the Parkrun at Whitby (Alyson is also a member of the ‘Parkrun Family, having done 35 since she took it up a couple of weeks before her 59th birthday). So at 9am on a Saturday two weeks after my incident the RD gave the usual pre-race briefing and when she mentioned that they had a defibrillator people start to laugh. Alyson shouted ‘It’s not funny! My husband needed one two weeks ago at a Parkrun!’ It went quiet and someone asked ‘Is he ok?‘ to which she replied ‘Yes, he’s over there watching the start..’.
Alyson enjoyed the run which was down a disused railway but reflected afterwards that the surface was hard paving, much less forgiving than the forest track at Delamere.

Last weekend we were also away at a large house with 18 of Alyson’s family and on Saturday morning a group of six went to Ross on Wye Parkrun. Five to run and me to watch. Alyson and Mike both ran in this one. However, this time no one laughed when the RD mentioned that they had one portable defibrillator at the start, and another was in the nearby sports centre. I was chatting to some other ‘tourists’ at the start, and one older guy from Leeds who, when he asked if I was running and I told him my story, announced ‘Oh I had one fitted 12 years ago and have run lots of times since including a few marathons.’
I have been told that I should be able to resume ‘normal exercise’ eventually, but am not sure I will ever do a marathon given the furthest I have ever run is several half-marathons and the last of those was the 2006 Great North Run! However, it gave me some hope.

I am not sure Alyson feels the same, but I have promised that I won’t go out on my own – as I had thought of doing the week before my incident when I fancied a quick jog up to the woods in our local area…

The final ‘twist’ to the story is that this weekend we celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary. We had booked a trip back to Paris to stay in the same hotel in the Place de La Sorbonne down from Notre Dame, where we went for our honeymoon and revisited on our 25th. There is a Parkrun close by and we had planned to do that one…it doesn’t bear thinking about what it would have been like if I suffered my cardiac arrest there – not with two failed O-Levels in French between us!

Something that Nikki replied after I shared the blog about my brain injury has stuck with me. She wrote ‘What an amazing story! I think someone up there is looking down on you!’ Another friend wrote ‘You know my thoughts on God, but you are a special case so I will pray for you’. A university friend who I will call Speed wrote ‘God clearly still has work for you to do! Thank God for all the prompt medical help you got.’

Even Alyson and her sister, neither of whom attend any church, in talking together when we were away in Ross on Wye concluded that God really didn’t want me joining him just now as that is twice I have tried and twice he has sent me back!

Since we moved from Crewe, a year ago this week, where I had been deeply involved at my local Methodist church and held various roles at circuit, district and attended the annual Methodist Conference, I have not found my ‘place’ in Oswestry. This is partly a deliberate choice as I wanted to take some ‘time out’ to discover the area and people. In September I met our local minister Rev Julia in her manse garden for a long chat. She was wonderful and encouraged me to work out what I wanted to do. This despite being very busy with pastoral care of 23 churches and knowing that, as in all places Methodist, there is a shortage of willing and experienced people for all the roles. The local churches have been very welcoming, despite numbers being down and attendance less during Covid. I have certainly not been to many services or joined local house/prayer groups, and even my attendance at the online Methodist Central Hall Westminster (MCHW) setup during ‘lockdown’ has been patchy.

Perhaps I am being given a ‘message’ through what has happened, and I definitely have more time to think things over, as I can’t just take myself out in my car without Alyson coming with me. I attended our annual ‘Covenant Service’ in January at which Methodists say a prayer which has these lines in it.

Your will, not mine be done in all things, wherever you may place me, in all that i do and in all that I may endure.
When there is work for me, and when there is none: When I am troubled and when I am at peace. Your will be done.
When I am disregarded: when I find fulfilment and when it is lacking;

The Methodist Worship Book P.288 (Modern Form)

The more traditional version is even more ‘stark’ with the lines ‘…Put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be employed for you or laid aside for you..’

With all the cards. messages, calls and support I have had, I certainly don’t feel disregarded – quite the opposite. But in this season of Lent as we look towards the suffering of our Saviour Jesus on the cross, even though I am not doing a formal lent study, maybe I need to take some time to consider my place in the local area, my family and church, and commit to doing something positive.

I am definitely going to sign up for a CPR course and use myself as a living example of what can be done. I will commit to raising some funds or donating to any Parkruns who need to get a defibrillator. But beyond that I will try to find something in the coming months or years to take the place of the work I have done in the past for my local church and community.

I will continue to volunteer at Parkrun events and be a ‘Tail Walker’ who follows the slowest person so that no one ever finishes last. To be fair to the core Team at Delamere it might be some time before I turn up in my new branded orange Parkrun shirt – my old one having been sliced down the middle by the paramedics! And I will definitely update my ICE barcode wristband which currently says ‘ no medical conditions’!

Coronavirus week 39 – Advent hope or Christmas cancelled?

It is 20 weeks since I did my last blog, or ‘CoronaDiary’ as it was named for the Swansea University project that it became part of. It seems a long time ago but serves to show how time passes quickly after I decided that the time had come to stop, with things apparently starting to ‘slow down’, ‘getting under control’, ‘living with the new normal’ or any number of ways of describing life in late summer/early autumn. There was also a possible vaccine in development.

I started several times to write another instalment as events and key points in the story of this year were reached, but each time my enthusiasm to finish them waned. Due in part I suspect to not wanting to repeat the same themes I had visited before, but mainly due to the fact that we too were doing some of the things we hadn’t been able to. We were fortunate to be in a situation where we could take a week away to each of the Norfolk coast, Cornwall and North Yorkshire. In addition we enjoyed days out walking around the Cheshire countryside and Alyson managed some open water swimming at a nearby lake in Shropshire. The project I am working on with the accountancy practice in Sale was reaching the critical ‘go-live’ point, and Alyson was getting more NHS 111 home-based call centre shifts.

Deaths – a change of measure but still increasing quickly..

I had set myself the target of writing another blog when the official figures for the number of coronavirus deaths reached the level they were at my last blog, as the government reassessed them, just after I published it, in light of some ‘mis-recording’. On 12 August, the total fell by 5,000 overnight from 46,706 to 41,329. Until then a death was recorded for anyone who had tested positive for Covid-19 at any time, regardless of the cause. So someone who had died of a heart attack or in a car accident but had a positive test 10 weeks before was added to the virus statistics. It would take another 11 weeks to get back to 46,513 at the end of October – an average of 71 deaths per week. Just over 7 weeks later we have surpassed the grim figure of 60,000 to reach 68,307 – an average of 3,113 per week. The other measure of all deaths where coronavirus is mentioned on the certificate is likely to be over 80,000 by the end of the year.

Key events I could have written about…

There have been some major issues and milestones in the time since my last blog. Ones I have had strong feelings about are;
– The exam results ‘fiasco’
– The on-going story of migrants drowning whilst crossing the channel, and my idea of requisitioning unused cruise ships anchored off the south coast to give them decent accommodation.
– Introduction of the tiers system of restrictions
– My (and many others) perception that GPs are hiding away
– Schools and universities returning to full-time teaching
– A study I read on how the virus circulates indoor via ‘aerosol particles’
– ‘Circuit-breaker’ or second national lockdown
– President Trump catching Covid-19, US Election & refusal to accept the result
– Announcing the vaccination program earlier than planned on the day the report into the Home Secretary Priti Patel’s bullying behaviour was published.
– The seemingly endless Brexit negotiations/deadlines and extensions.

So why now…

The recent excitement over the new vaccines, the hope that brings of a ‘light at the end of the tunnel’, allied to planning for a small family Christmas get together was shattered by yesterday’s Government Briefing. Our Prime Minister, the only one in the World known mainly by his first name, Boris announced a new ‘Tier 4’ for London and the South East plus severe restrictions on ‘Christmas bubbles’ and the time they are allowed to meet. It seems like another one of the many ‘key points’ in the pandemic, coming as it does with the fact that a ‘new strain’ of the coronavirus that is much more effective at transmission is circulating and spreading rapidly through the population. The disease is called Covid-19 because it was in late December last year that the WHO office in China reported a ‘new type of pneumonia virus’ being reported in the area around the city of Wuhan. Whilst there is still some dispute about where it originated, the virus has been traced back to cases in mid-November. The first anniversary of the discovery of what we now call SARS-CoV-2 seems like a significant event to record in my blog.

For those with an interest in the science, the new variant is being referred to as SARS-CoV-2 VUI 202012/01 and the more detailed description of the mutation is as follows;

This variant has a mutation in the receptor binding domain (RBD) of the spike protein at position 501, where amino acid asparagine (N) has been replaced with tyrosine (Y). The shorthand for this mutation is N501Y, sometimes noted as S:N501Y to specify that it is in the spike protein. This variant carries many other mutations, including a double deletion (positions 69 and 70).

US Centers For Disease Control and Prevention, Emerging Variants Briefing December 2020.

It is this variation in the ‘spike protein’ that scientists think accounts for its ability for increased transmission by better binding to cells in people who get infected by the virus. It remains to be seen if the symptoms are more severe or if it is resistant to the vaccine, but the early signs are ‘hopeful’. What will certainly be the case is that the number of infections will rise and given the pattern up to now, many people will need some treatment in hospitals. This is the factor that may lead to ‘Lockdown v3.0’ and more damage to mental health and the economy.

In recent weeks I have been leading four sessions on the season of Advent with our church Bible study group and there are some themes which resonate with the current situation. As we approach the end of an extraordinary year and try to look forward to 2021 it seems an opportune moment to write down my personal thoughts and feelings. This blog has always been for my own reference, but I continue to be grateful for all the comments it attracts as each one is published.

Advent – the season of waiting – 2020 theme ‘Hope’….

It is only in the last few years, after 50+ years of being part the ‘Methodist Tradition’ through my church membership, that I have understood the ‘true meaning’ of Advent. For many it is ‘just the few weeks before Christmas’ but it is so much more than that. It is a time of ‘waiting’ and ‘anticipation’ during which we are called to lament/repent for all that has gone before and wait for the arrival of the long-promised ‘Light of the World’ to arrive in the form of a small child. Our fellow Christians in the Church of England, or ‘the Anglican Tradition’ recognise this in a more formal way. In the build up to Christmas they don’t sing ‘traditional carols’ and for them Christmas starts on the eve of the 25th December. It lasts for 12 days until Epiphany on the 6th January.

This year in the ‘real world’, the commercial one and the one that the church has hijacked from the original pagan ‘winter festival’, after all the upheaval of Covid and the challenges and illness and death, there has been a desire to ‘go early’. When I worked in retail pharmacy we would have started to plan for all the Christmas stock arrival earlier in the year. Indeed, during my time as Managing Director of our ‘Pharmacy Sundries’ subsidiary company, January would see me and the sales team attending trade fairs in the UK and Frankfurt in Germany, to meet suppliers from all over the globe to purchase, and in some cases ‘design’, the gifts our stores would sell during the ‘Christmas Season’. Stock would be ordered, shipped from China or India or wherever the suppliers were based, duty paid, containers received and unloaded at the warehouse, and delivered to the shops by a small fleet of vans ready to fill the shelves. There was always a tension between the warehouse wanting to get stock out (and our small company to invoice the larger one!) and the shops saying it was ‘too early’. In the end together with the retail marketing team for the shops we agreed a rough policy that, whilst stock could be delivered during September the, ‘big reveal’ would happen after the solemn celebration of Remembrance had taken place on November 11th. After that it was ‘all hands on deck’ to shift as much as we could. On a really good year our shops would be calling the warehouse in the second week of December pleading for us to send more – the items we had chosen that they were sceptical of selling were flying off the shelves. In the last week it might get to the point that shoppers were so desperate for a gift that even the stock we had left from previous years would look like the ideal gift for a family member!

It seems that a lot of people after the year they have had decided to ‘go early’. There was a rush to put up Christmas lights and decorations not just earlier but in bigger volumes than before. Around our estate there are so many whole garden displays and inflatable characters they can probably be seen from space! Goodness only knows what the electricity bills will be like in January. Shops have sold out and many Christmas tree growers have shut as all the stock has gone. There is an understandable desire from people wanting to celebrate and have something to look forward to. I confess to liking it, but it can get a bit wearing listening to hours of the old pop Christmas favourites from the 70s and 80s.

The theme for the Advent study we chose this year was ‘Hope’ which seemed appropriate for the year and is one aspect of the season along with joy, peace and love. As churches we have readings about John the Baptist and the Old Testament Prophets foretelling the arrival of The Messiah, the story of Mary and the journey towards Bethlehem. Many of us light four candles (and many ministers refer to the classic sketch on The Two Ronnies!) coloured red in an Advent wreath of holly, lighting the fifth white candle in the middle on Christmas day to represent Jesus. .

In many of our times of study we referenced the difficult times we have had during the pandemic. We would lament people we have lost, pray for support for those going through difficult times, missing friends and family contact, particularly those who know people in care homes or have not been able to attend the funeral of a family member. We have given thanks for the key workers helping us through difficult times. More recently we have given thanks for the God-given skills of the scientists for developing the vaccines, the hope that brings and the ability to start ‘looking forward’ in anticipation of a better 2021. Many of the Christmas cards we have received, had a handwritten note to reflect this hope too.

Watching Boris, Professor Chris Whitty, Chief Medical Officer and Sir Patrick Vallance, Government Chief Scientific Adviser on Saturday evening announcing the new ‘Tier 4’ measures, and limiting even more the Christmas travel and bubble arrangements, it would have been easy to find a new low of depression, and lack of optimism. Sunday morning’s news headlines on television and in the print media could be summed up as ‘Christmas Cancelled’. During the summer and into the early autumn with infection rates falling, deaths levelling-off to a figure that we could probably live with, health services opening, people going back to work and children to school, things appeared a little brighter. Despite having to take a lot of measures on our holiday in Norfolk and again when we went to the lodge in Great Ayton, North Yorkshire, and the early figures for the ‘second wave’ seeming not to be as high as the first, my optimism was still there.

It was whilst ‘attending’ (via You Tube) the live streamed service from Methodist Central Hall Westminster (MCHW) on Sunday morning that I decided to write this blog. MCHW of course is now in Tier 4 so the chances of a few people attending the church physically on Christmas Day has gone. The reading was about Mary and her willingness to carry the child that would become our Saviour. We sang Joy To The World and O Come All Ye Faithful and accepted the challenge from Rev Gordon to take up whatever challenges we will face in the coming months. Both Gordon and Rev Tony who leads the service said that although we were in lockdown, Christmas itself wasn’t cancelled. Tony said he had received a humorous text about there being ‘only 370 more sleeps to Christmas’ but he wanted to state that wasn’t true. I posted the image below on my Facebook page on Monday and it attracted many likes…

The commercial ‘winter festival’ may have been curtailed and many would not be able to see family and friends, but nothing is going to stop Christmas being Christmas for Christians. It brought to mind this tweet from earlier in the week reminding us that other religions had their celebrations ‘cancelled’ at even shorter notice – in some cases the evening before the big family gatherings.

Admittedly, some replies pointed out that Easter was ‘cancelled’ at the start of lockdown and, as happens on social media these days, there were plenty of racist comments, but the point was the same one I had made the night before Eid. ‘Imagine the uproar if they cancelled Christmas…’

The most striking interview I saw on Sunday morning was with Rev Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury on the BBC’s Andrew Marr Show. It appeared to me that the leader of our national church was shaken by the events of Saturday and, like many of us, struggling with an inner voice that was saying to him ‘I am really not sure that my faith is strong enough for this…’. But he found another inner voice and rallied to assure us that Christmas would indeed happen on the appointed day. He also talked movingly about the ‘hole in the celebration’ left by those who can’t be with us, either because they have died or are alone in a place we can’t travel to. He encouraged us all to celebrate the great festival by remembering those who have died, talking about them, and for those who are isolated to pick up the phone and speak to them. He encouraged the vulnerable not to attend church but to call one of the many phone numbers with services, carols or prayers being broadcast.

Some of the many people with a spare place at the table are the family of our school friend Clare who died in November aged just 61 from motor neurone disease diagnosed five years ago. Clare is the first of our contemporaries that we have kept in touch with for over 50 years to go. It is as much a sobering reminder of our own mortality as it is sad. It was also our first (and probably not last) ‘virtual funeral’, we watched the live stream whilst listening to the music chosen by Clare herself on You Tube.

As I sang along watching the service from Westminster to O Come All You Faithful I remembered the Christmas of 2016 when my dad died. We were celebrating at a cottage on the North York Moors with Alyson’s family. Dad was on end-of-life care in a nursing home nearby, and died the day we were leaving the cottage. You can read about that in the blog that I wrote at the time . I asked the minister if we could sing the hymn at dad’s funeral as he was a long-time member of the church choir and hadn’t managed to sing it that year. Rev Ruth said that it was a great idea and all we needed to change was the last verse usually sung on Christmas Day from ‘Yea we greet thee born this happy morning’ to …that happy morning..’. Alyson’s dad who was 90 and not in good health gave a short speech during Christmas Day lunch suggesting that this might be the last one he had with us. He died later that year in October.

So we had two Christmases in a row with spare places at the table. Such is the ‘circle of life’, we have lost Alyson’s mum since, but this year we have two small boys born to our nieces since. They represent the joy, love and hope of the Advent season.

Final thoughts and looking to the future…

There will be three households with us on Christmas Day, but only four people – Alyson and I, and our two sons who are single-person households. We will social distance as much as we can and maybe even eat outside. Other than that we have several ‘Zoom’ catch-ups planned with other family members and friends. We had one last weekend with my brothers and cousins (my older brother lives in San Jose California, 6 miles from the global Zoom HQ so was supporting one of his ‘local businesses’!). We have had one ‘virtual Christmas party’ with the head injury charity I am a member and trustee of. Ready-made meals were delivered along with a box of crackers, hats and gifts. We played charades, told jokes from the crackers and even tried to sing some carols. A great time was had by all who attended.

I heard from another friend that the company he works at had a ‘Zoom office party’ that started at 8pm and for some people went on until 6am. Apparently, the ability to drink and not have to drive home led to some problems with people saying and doing things that they would regret when reading the ‘chat’ the next day. So it seems a virtual party can be as good or bad as a real-world one!

I like to think I have always been generally an optimistic person, trying to see the positive in both situations and in people I meet. Alyson thinks I am a bit too laid back and even naive, and reminds me that earlier in the year I was still hoping that we would be able to get a sunny holiday overseas and was one of those who said it would be all over by Christmas. I try to find hope in the vaccination program but recognise that our governments record for ‘ramping up’ the testing capacity could induce pessimism that our ability to vaccinate the estimated 16.5 million people aged over 60. To get this done before Easter, considering the five weeks to achieve full immunity, will require an average of two million vaccinations each week. There have been half a million people vaccinated in the two weeks since 90-year-old Margaret Keenan became the first person on 8 December. We need an eight-fold increase in that rate if we are to reach the Easter target.

As I reflect on the end of a very strange and difficult year, my faith is strong, and my optimism remains at a high level. The hours of daylight are increasing from today, and I am looking forward to 2021

 

 

 

 

Coronavirus week 19 – That didn’t last long…second wave starting

A short heatwave but signs of another wave of infection.

According to one of the weather forecasters I heard, to qualify as a heatwave there needs to be a period of three days of higher than average temperatures, but ours this week was only one day. It was 20-21 degrees on Thursday and reasonably sunny, by Friday afternoon it was 35 but by the evening it was cloudy muggy and raining and on Saturday it was back to 21 with a cool wind and some showers.

At the end of my last blog I suggested that I may not do another for a few weeks as things appeared to have reached a ‘steady state’, with falling numbers of deaths and a ‘levelling off’ in the number of infections. That idea didn’t even last for 24 hours. It wasn’t that a couple of people were kind enough to comment on my Facebook post saying that they enjoyed reading them; it was watching Channel 4 News on Monday evening.  It’s a way of getting updated on current events that I get the most from. All day ‘rolling news’ is a great thing, something we never had in ‘the good old days’ when there were only three or four terrestrial television channels. The problem is that even  BBC News 24, whose coverage I also enjoy, only touch the surface of a story. I don’t want to sound like a ‘grumpy old man’, but programme makers appear to think we are incapable of listening for more than 90 seconds, or in ITV’s case, that we also need the chance to win a £150,000 prize of gifts we probably don’t need.

Anyway, it was watching the news on Monday evening that there were so many items I wanted to write about, many of them linked to each other or to coronavirus. Hence this blog with all the topics originating with the items on that edition.

Holidaymakers returning from mainland Spain complaining that there were more cases of the virus on one caravan park in Shropshire, than the whole of the Balearic Islands, and they felt safer in a country where everyone was obeying the rules on social distancing and hygiene. By the evening, the islands had been included. Transport minister Grant Shapps went to Spain but had to isolate when he came back on Wednesday. I admit to thinking that I would go if insured, and suffer two weeks quarantine or extend the holiday as I was sure there would be extra capacity. By the end of the week, however, as local lockdown was declared for large parts of Greater Manchester, Lancashire, and West Yorkshire, like others I suspect, I was more doubtful.  I listened to arguments about having to declare whole countries as giving a simpler message than trying to exclude certain areas, and had to agree. Whilst the Canaries are further from mainland Spain than Venice is from London, it would not be difficult to get around the rules by taking a flight from the mainland to the islands and return from there. There is also the danger of catching the virus and having to be in hospital in a foreign country possibly for a long time where the care may be excellent, but my Spanish is almost non-existent.

Despite early criticism there appeared to be more acceptance later in the week when the rates of infection in Belgium (which had one of the highest rates in Europe in the earlier part of the pandemic), and Luxembourg, were rising very quickly. It seems a ‘second wave’ is starting to spread across Europe.

In the UK cases were definitely rising with average daily cases approaching 800 at the end of the week. The fact that average daily deaths was still falling to about 60 at the end of the week, could point to two things; that the lag between cases and serious illness is not showing yet, or that it is mainly younger people getting infections and they don’t generally suffer with the more life-threatening symptoms.

Boris says ‘get on your bike’…

Boris encouraged us (like Norman Tebbit in 1981) to ‘get on our bikes’, but this time not to look for work, but in an effort to fight obesity. The web site handing out free £50 vouchers to get bikes repaired crashed due to demand. Not surprising for £2.5million of untargeted benefits. Many would be snapped up by those who could well afford to repair the bicycle that had lain neglected in the garage for years. It all seemed a bit of a headline-grabbing gimmick. Boris has previous on this topic. As Mayor of London he encouraged people to use a Transport for London (TfL) scheme for hiring simple bicycles parked in many areas in the city to travel to other areas. Registered users could take any of the 5,000 cycles from any of the 315 docking stations in central London to any other for a relatively small fee. This was in 2010 and proved successful. The original bikes were sponsored by Barclays bank with a blue highlight. The scheme was transferred to Santander bank with the current ones mainly red and there are now 11,000 bikes and 800 ‘stations’ spread across 40 square miles of London. 

In a week of mixed messages I had one alert from GOV.UK announcing a ban on buy one get one free offers on unhealthy food, and the next one reminded me that I could go to the pub or restaurant and taxpayers will give me 50% off any meal. This is for as many times as I like. So presumably I could get a first course with chips, followed by a chocolate brownie/ice cream / sticky toffee pudding (with extra chocolate sauce) for 12 days (it’s only Monday-Wednesday) from 3rd to 31st August. All washed down with a nice glass of wine or beer – but don’t worry the discount is not off those and they don’t contain many calories. Even HMRC were putting out Tweets about the offer – even if they couldn’t bring themselves to think people might want other European or even British menus…?

The idea of making it a requirement to put calories on all restaurant menus is a good one, but many pubs and fast-food sites do that now. The problem appears to be the ‘education’ needed to allow us to make the healthier choices.

Channel 4 News had an interview with chef Jamie Oliver (who also has years of campaigning for us to make more healthy choices. He made the point that the good quality food is more expensive, and those with less money can only afford the ‘less good’. Rather than taxing sugar, he suggested that perhaps we should be subsidising healthier food.

It could be that this approach to obesity, exercise and healthy eating was related to Boris’s own experience of Covid-19 and the realisation that his own health may have meant not seeing his fiancee and young child? There are many in the Conservative Party who decry the so-called ‘Nanny State’ (itself a posh expression), but a government that claims to have been ‘following the science and experts’ appears in the past to have paid more attention to the food and drink industry lobbyists than ‘health experts’ when deciding policies. Like tobacco before it, the ‘curse of sugar’ needs mass cultural and social change if it is to be effective.

What it doesn’t need is ‘fat-shaming’ and judging people by their apparent excess weight. The majority of our population have some problems maintaining a healthy diet. No one wakes up one day and finds themselves several stones overweight.  The busyness of our lives and availability of cheap food make it hard to change. I have the luxury of a good income, the space to own an exercise bike, and a pleasant area go out for a run. In my case I have made a conscious decision to change, and am currently about a stone less in weight than I was at the start of March. I also know it will be a struggle to keep this way once we get back to eating out again on a regular basis.  I often wonder how people in poverty-stricken countries who have to walk miles to get clean water or a meagre amount of food to take back to a house with no electricity, would make of our kitchen cupboards and American-style double refrigerators. As if that wasn’t enough for them to take in, imagine trying to explain that we then pay a membership of £360 a year for the privilege of driving, three or more times a week ,to a large warehouse full of bicycles that don’t move and treadmills. All in an effort to lose the excess body mass we have!

The next item of news last Monday was one on rehabilitation from the after effects of having Covid-19, or one of its variants dubbed ‘Long Covid’, as the fatigue and memory issues and muscle weakness can last for months (maybe even years, we don’t know yet). The item showed a group using a gym closed due to lockdown, and sharing experiences with people who have been through the same thing.  This is just like my journey after brain injury, when I found the charity that brings together people from all parts of society and background to share with each other. Access to physio and rehab services across the country is patchy at best, but so vital. All of this should have happened years ago. There is a small charity that works with people who have been in intensive care for long periods of time. Patients may be physically well, but the mental effects can last a very long time.  If this step of physio is missing or not done thoroughly, there is more of a cost to the country in terms of lost working days and productivity, as well as actual treatment, medicines, and care in old age. It makes no sense health wise or economically, not having these services readily available for everyone.

The final two articles on the Monday evening news was one that US president Trump’s security advisor had tested positive, after a trip to Florida ,where there is a rise in cases of Covid-19.  Then that Brazil’s president Bolsanaro has been reported to the International Criminal Court, by an umbrella group representing health worker unions and social care organisations, for ignoring and mishandling the crisis. Their claim of crimes against humanity amounting to genocide are unlikely to be taken on by the ICC but demonstrate the strong feelings in the country.  There was an interview (on BBC news!) with a doctor in a hospital in Sao Paulo stating that they had people turn up at hospital still claiming it was all false and a hoax – but when they ended up in intensive care they say ‘doctor don’t let me die and tell my family to take care!’ 

Other news last week.

  • We watched Jimmy McGovern’s powerful drama imagining the life Anthony Walker a young black man killed aged just 18 in 2005. He wanted to become a barrister. His mum asked the writer to show him qualifying against all the odds, marrying his (white) girlfriend at the time of his death, having a child and saving his best man from a life of crime by taking him to live with his family after becoming destitute. It brought me to tears. 
    Anthony’s mother, Gee Walker, has setup a trust in his name and as a Christian she believed this was part of Anthony’s legacy.  This will be something that is hard for those without a faith to accept. But I believe, as his mother hopes, that despite not becoming a civil rights lawyer and going to America, Anthony’s legacy through the work his mum does, and the effect of this drama, means more people could be touched. Some small comfort to his brave mum.
  • Late Thursday evening health secretary Matt Hancock announced that Greater Manchester, East Lancashire and parts of West Yorkshire were told to go into a ‘local lockdown’. This was due to a ‘spike in cases’ from people going into each other’s homes. There was some confusion and a great deal of contention from the Muslim population as it was the eve of Eid one of the major feasts of Islam. One leader likened it to cancelling the Christmas Day at 9 o’clock on Christmas Eve, although another did acknowledge that when the original lockdown was imposed many Christians had to miss Easter Day celebrations.
    Writing as someone who is doing project work for a company in Sale, there was concern that some members of the team who had only returned to work because their parents could look after the children again, may have to go back on furlough until the lockdown was over.
  • Another member of the team at the company developed some symptoms and was relieved when their test came back negative – but they had to wait over 3 days for the result.
  • One report from Manchester showed a street where many of the rainbow posters drawn to put in windows to celebrate the NHS Heroes were faded and torn….perhaps a sign of how quickly we forget?
  • One of the most worrying statements last week was from Professor Chris Whitty as he stood next to Boris Johnson at a Downing Street press conference on Friday announcing that the opening of face to face beauty treatments and bowling alleys was to be delayed for a further two weeks at least. He said

“I think what we’re seeing from the data from ONS, and other data, is that we have probably reached near the limit or the limits of what we can do in terms of opening up society.

“So what that means potentially is that if we wish to do more things in the future, we may have to do less of some other things.”

He expanded to say that if we are to get children back to school in September we may need to close some other places (pubs perhaps?) or put new limits on what people can do and who they can meet.

It really does feel this week that we are not in a ‘steady state’ anymore….!

How was week 19 for us?

After weeks of training and struggling with IT and ‘HR’ Alyson finally managed to book a few shifts on NHS 111 service…but only as reserve. She responded ‘I don’t want to be a reserve I want to be on the first team!’ Her wish came true on Friday when she was given just 20 minutes notice that she was working an 8-hour shift. This was due to late cancellations by two other people on the shifts. The deal is that people are supposed to get 24 hours’ notice. So, she managed to cancel one and worked 4-8pm. It was a tough shift, not only with the types of call, but using the systems for the first time. Reflecting afterwards Alyson felt that she had helped people at a difficult time, and knew that the next shift(s) would be better.

We both signed up as volunteers for vaccine trial in conjunction with the NHS and a pharmaceutical company. Unlike last week’s attempt we both passed the age & health requirements.

After the very warm day of Friday we went to Coventry for a ‘socially distanced picnic’ in a large park to meet up with Alyson’s sister and brother and their families in  Coventry. It was good to see everyone again including our two boys and our nieces. There were three generations and one of our nieces is expecting her first child in October  – she works in a hospital so was concerned about getting too close to us, but I think she enjoyed the day. The only member of the family who couldn’t come was our nephew who returned from the Spanish Balearic Island of Majorca so was self-isolating in his London flat.

On Sunday I attended my now weekly Zoom service at Westminster Central Hall Methodist Church. It was great to be part of a ‘congregation’ of over 1,100 people sharing in worship. Rev Howard Mellor gave an amazing sermon on the ‘original picnic’, the feeding of the 5,000, a miracle told in exactly the same way in all four gospels. Howard pointed out a small word that I had not noticed before – grass! Despite the disciples only having meagre rations of five loaves and two fishes, and thinking that was not enough to feed the crowd, Jesus managed to make it sufficient for all the people (more than 5,000 when including the women and children) and ‘still there were 12 baskets left over’. All this in an area which, because of the grass, was clearly a place of abundance where crops could grow. Howard’s message to those of us hoping to be modern day ‘good disciples’ was however little (in terms of skills and gifts) we think we have, if we give it to Jesus, he can help us achieve so much more than we ever believed.

Stay safe and let’s see if there is enough for another blog next week!

Coronavirus week 15 – the fine line between hope and crisis…

Did we go too soon?

Most of the week has been spent anticipating the 4th of July or ‘super Saturday’, ‘Independence Day’ when the pubs, restaurants and hairdressers were allowed to reopen. Also self-catering cottages, campsites and some B&B’s along with theme parks. We were waiting an announcement on which countries people will be allowed to visit without the need to quarantine on return. There were some concerns from scientists that we were going too far too fast.

For all of the above there were some who took it as a green light to start now. Airlines had passengers off to Spain, France, Greece and whole host of other places where they had second homes or were planning to be away for many weeks. Such people clearly had enough money to ‘self-insure’ against any eventuality. Street or ‘block parties’ continued and some pubs were open early. By the time Saturday came there were camera crews and reporters ready to capture the inevitable response to cutting a bit of hair or downing a pint.

The reports appeared to be mainly positive, but watching the crowds in Soho roaming the streets on a sunny afternoon there didn’t appear to be much social distancing going on there.  As a reporter from the Associated Press put it

John Apter, chair of the Police Federation, who was on patrol in the southern England city of Southampton, said it was a busy shift, one that saw officers having to deal with naked men, “happy” drunks as well as “angry” drunks. He said the shift “managed to cope” but it was “crystal clear” that those who have imbibed one too many cannot, or won’t, socially distance.

I don’t usually use swear words but that last sentence is one to which my friend Gareth from the head injury charity might reply ‘no sh*t Sherlock!’.

A few days earlier the authorities decided that one place that the pubs and hairdressers would not be opening was the city of Leicester. Due to data showing the infection rate rising alarmingly in some post codes  a ‘local lockdown’ was imposed. Many words were written about the possible causes, some speculating that the ‘hundreds’ of local small garment factories in tiny buildings that continued working were the main reason. Others said that it was the fact that the city is home to many people of Asian heritage where the culture is to live together in multi-generational households, some in areas of deprivation. It is well-known that two of the groups more susceptible to infection are minority ethnic and the elderly.

I am weary from hours of attending the Methodist Conference along with 300 others on Zoom, voting by virtually raising our hands or completing  on-screen polls. I am emotionally drained by listening to speakers on so many topics that needed our action. They all seemed so relevant. We were diverted from our agenda on the first morning by several urgent ‘notices of motion’ that altered proposed resolutions around equality diversion and inclusion (EDI). I admit to being a little annoyed, but as speaker after speaker from the LGBTQI+, transgender, black and ethnic groups, those with disabilities both visible and hidden, spoke of injustice, hatred and, even worse – indifference, I couldn’t help but be determined that action is needed.

This is about justice and inclusion and the need to work more as a church to celebrate difference. Again I was challenged to look at the EDI learning kit – but it is so much more than that. It is easy to think that living as we do in a predominately ‘white European’ town, that I am not racist. But that falls into the example heard in church so many times, ‘well we don’t have any minority ethnic people in our church so we can’t be accused of being racist’! I would now be tempted to ask, so how many disabled, homosexual or ‘gender fluid’ members are in your church or even your circuit? Is the membership or attendance representative of the area you live in?

This focus on EDI may have influenced some representatives to elect our first BAME President elect for 2021. Rev Sonia Hicks also happens to be a woman. She has great experience having served as a Circuit Superintendent in three connexions: Britain, the Methodist Church in the Caribbean and Americas and the Methodist Church in Ireland (MCI). Sonia is quoted as saying;

As a Black person born in the UK, it is a great privilege to serve the church family I love in this new way. I will do all I can to honour this choice of the Methodist Conference and enable British Methodism to celebrate our God-given diversity.

Not for the first time, the Conference elected two women to the top posts as Sonia will be joined as Vice President for 2021 by Barbara Easton, a secondary head teacher from the West Midlands.

Next up at conference was Sam Monaghan, chief executive of our charity that provides services and care homes or living in the community Methodist Homes (MHA).  They have been very visible on our news programmes as a case study for the problems in care homes. 400 residents have died so far. It was obvious that care homes were forgotten initially. I was in tears as Sam recounted the story of those losses and that of three members of staff. Our district team decided there and then that as well as EDI, MHA would be one of our priorities for the year. One of our group with homes nearby said that some church members had commented that it is more expensive to live in them. That’s partly because they are an organisation that pays its care workers the ‘real living wage’, decided by the Living Wage Foundation, rather than the national (minimum) living wage set by our government – something to celebrate not complain about.

After the main session of conference finished for the day attended (via Zoom again) a ‘fringe event’ about how our ‘bank’ Central Finance Board (CFB) were deciding which oil companies to divest themselves from, on the advice of the Joint Advisory Committee on Ethical Investment (JACEI) of which the Methodist Church is a member. There was some ‘controversy’ that we were still investing in three oil companies who were not meeting the measures set by the Paris Agreement on climate change. CFB explained that reduced returns and loss of income had to be balanced with a judgement about the companies ‘moving in the right direction’. There were also difficulties in the metrics of how to judge the companies. Change costs money, and whilst change needs to be worked through and company’s encouraged, it won’t happen overnight ( I know we don’t have time here, but I believe that science and technology will play a large part in solving climate change – it just needs investment and a push).

We spent many hours the next two days discussing long reports on important projects and issues for our church, but as time went on I got more worked up about the young people of our church who we call ‘3-generate’ pushing hard on the climate issue, and asking for CFB to overturn their decision to keep the three oil companies. This came to a head in a debate when, despite warnings from our treasurer and others that the loss of income and costs of doing so would be many hundreds of thousands of pounds and our own independent pension scheme trustees might decide to ‘disinvest from our own bank’ to seek better returns elsewhere, a notice of motion was agreed to overturn the decision. I resolved that I would speak up on the subject. Having spent many hours preparing carefully what I would say, by the time I was called to speak it was the very last part of the final session and due to overrun I had to quickly cut what I wanted to say from three minutes, to two and then one. I nearly didn’t speak but had ‘promised’ out treasurer that I would. At the last minute my printer also ran out of ink. I was very weary and tired so, instead of putting one negative point and one positive suggestion, I stumbled my way through one minute of the negative before being cut-off mid-sentence. I was shattered and devastated. The clip is on YouTube as the sessions are up there. This is a screenshot of me making my ‘speaking debut at conference’, looking distracted by trying to read what I am saying off the other screen next to my laptop.

It has only been seen by 2,734 people (mostly watching live at the time), and as far as I can tell no more since. Fortunately it is only up there until 1st August so not many more will view it!

Other news this week

  • As well as final details of the releasing the lockdown, the prime minister announced the ‘big spend’ infrastructure projects to get the UK moving again, a boost to the economy, and providing work for many of those workers who have lost their jobs in the last four months. This led to the inevitable calls to cancel the HS2 rail project to save money and the environment. People against this often quote that there is no need for people like us in Crewe to get to London 20 minutes sooner than we do now, particularly with more people working from home in the future. My response is that HS2 is not about speed but capacity. It is to get more freight off the roads and onto rail. To develop the current system to add another line or so next to current ones will take much longer, be even more disruptive and be more expensive. Just imagine the number of ‘back gardens’ you would have to destroy and the stations, bridges and signalling that would need to be altered. There are already lots of delays from upgrading the present system to current standards, not much of which does anything for capacity, but is making up for decades of underspending.
  • The list of countries we are able to travel to without going into isolation was published at the end of the week. There were 50+ on there but some confusion as some did not want a ‘reciprocal arrangement’ whereby we are able to travel to them.
  • We had one last ‘clap for the NHS’ to celebrate the 72nd anniversary of setting up the organisation. It was supposed to be for five minutes at 5 o’clock on the 5th, but there were only a few households out near us and certainly not for the full time.
  • The figures for deaths and cases kept falling, but were beginning to ‘flatten’. The average Monday to Friday official deaths were 124 this week down from 152 last. Daily cases are averaging less than 900 now. The total at the end of the week was 44,220 and average new infections are just over 500 per day.

How was week 15 for us?

Well the NHS finally appear to have got their act together and, using the new terminology, Alyson was ‘on-boarded’ on Thursday. She received her updated NHS email address on Friday, and has spent the weekend doing some final training on the system. Alyson completed the other modules around safeguarding and GDPR. Hopefully the last portion of the training will be done this week and she can arrange to choose some sessions from the roster in coming weeks.

During my time at conference Alyson did some Nordic walking at Delamere Forest having not done any since before lockdown. Normally she is part of a group but felt safe enough to go on her own and really enjoyed it. On Friday I needed to clear my head, so we spent a pleasant afternoon walking the forest tracks for 90 minutes.

Saturday saw us forming a ‘bubble’ with Michael as we went to his house to help put up a trellis for his climbing rose on the side of his shed. Alyson took the photo below and titled it ‘danger Skaife and son at work’. As I wrote a few weeks ago I am not known for my DIY skills and have not passed any on to my sons. It was a successful afternoon as Michael only hit his thumb half a dozen times with the hammer putting in the metal staples!

Michael had gone into his office in the centre of Manchester for the first time in more than 12 weeks to setup a new colleague with the IT equipment needed to work from home. He said it felt very strange with the added element of social distancing.

I will be going into an office on the outskirts of Manchester this week in order to meet Steve the director of the accountants I am doing the project for. This was the result of a Zoom meeting when I presented my report to the directors and it was agreed that rather than me try to go over all the systems and project plan remotely, it would be more efficient to be in the office, either side of a large table and share the various systems on a large screen on the wall. It will feel strange, but the company has spent a great deal of time putting ‘Covid-secure’ measures in so I am certain it will be as safe as it can be.

When I attended the weekly live-streamed service at Methodist Central Hall Westminster, I was confronted by my disastrous speech on Wednesday again. Three of the main participants had been at the conference and Rev Paul was part of the main organising technical team, and the person who probably pressed the button to let me ‘into the room’. Anthony, a local preacher and rep from the London District, had spoken well to another ‘notice of motion’ to persuade conference to do more about EDI.

Sunday was the first anniversary of Alyson’s mum’s funeral. Again we reflected on how different things were then. Not only the social distancing and the ability to at least hold some sort of tea and meet friends and relatives, but the weather a year ago was very warm too.

Stay safe, and we will see if the easing means we cross the fine line back over to the crisis side and a ‘second wave’.

So Whats the Story?….We did it!

During the weekend that Eliud Kipchoge ran a marathon in under two hours, I managed to slowly jog 10k around Tatton Park in 1 hour 12 minutes and 23 seconds. Eliud could have done it in 28 minutes 32 seconds!

The real story, however, is not my running but that together we raised a lot of money for four charities. I decided to include Parkrun Forever, the charity which, along with corporate sponsors, allows Parkrun to be free for everyone to take part in.

The total sponsorship for the charities are:

Cheshire South Methodist Circuit
£1,230.00

HIP in Cheshire
£2,860.50

UHNM Charity (Royal Stoke Hospital)
£1,312.50

Parkrun Forever
£145.00

That’s a total of £5,548

Thanks to more than 65 of my family, friends, church fellowship and HIP members who donated. Your generosity is overwhelming!

I know the charities will be grateful for the funds and it will allow them to support the people they work with, or who are helped by what they do.

The on-line donation pages have now been closed and the funds passed to the charities.

Every blessing

Ian Skaife
November 2019

 

 

So Whats the Story?….. The Long Story

This is the longer story of the reason I am doing a sponsored 10k for three charities that you can read about in my last post So Whats the Story…? A 3-2-1 offer on a sponsored 10k.

During the Olympic summer of 2012 I was training for my first short triathlon, having been a ‘slow plodder’ for about 30 years of doing 10K’s and around 15 Half Marathons including five Great North Runs. I was never competitive and my motto was ‘when the going gets tough…..it’s time to slow down or even walk if needed’.

I woke up one Wednesday morning with a splitting headache and some numbness in my right foot. Putting it down to ‘man flu’ and an old back injury I worked that day but took the next one off. On Friday I woke up and could barely move my right side and the headache was excruciating. By the time we got to A&E I could barely stand unaided. A stroke was diagnosed, and I was put in a ward and pumped full of aspirin. On Sunday after a CT scan I was told that it could be a cancerous brain tumour and I was being sent to a specialist hospital 18 miles away. They confirmed that it wasn’t a tumour but a large amount of infection. They were not able to operate, as I had so much aspirin in my blood there was a danger that I would suffer a bleed in the brain. By Thursday my condition deteriorated, and they did an emergency biopsy. This didn’t go well and early the next morning I went for a second operation to drain the infection. Alyson was told that I might not make it, and when our two sons arrived from their homes in the south, they had what we now refer to as ‘the organ donation conversation’.

Memories of the next 24 hours are sketchy but when I arrived back on the ward from intensive care, I still couldn’t move my right side and although I understood what people were saying I couldn’t answer at all. The only words I managed were a tentative ‘yes’ (when I meant no) and no (meaning yes). Later I managed to speak a little but then it was mainly swear words which, as people who know me will confirm, I rarely use.

So began treatment involving two antibiotics intravenously five times a day every day. I was also put on anti-epileptic medication to prevent fitting, and antidepressants for my low mood. The days were endless, the restless nights even longer. I was struggling with tiredness and extreme confusion. Coming to a dead stop after my life as a busy IT Project Manager was hard. I wanted to be back at work but had to learn that in the brain business, days turn to weeks and weeks to months.

I tried to read newspapers and magazines but by the end of a paragraph I had forgotten what the headline was about. I had asked for my Bible to be brought in and that was even harder to read. I couldn’t even remember The Lord’s Prayer. My Bible was still a source of some comfort, although starting on Psalms was probably not my best idea. I do have a vivid memory of Carmen, a Columbian nurse singing quietly a hymn while she gently washed my back. I shared stories with other overseas nurses who, on seeing my Bible, talked about life ‘back home’ and what their faith meant to them.

I started intense physio and speech therapy. Being left-handed was a bonus as at least I could do some basic tasks. It took three people to get me out of bed using a hoist and either onto the toilet or eventually to prop me up in a chair.  What I couldn’t do was muster the words to ask to be put back, so often sat there frustrated for hours as people came in and out of my room.

Alyson visited me twice a day every day for the next 12 weeks. I owe her a debt that will never be paid. Church friends and close family helped relate my story each day to our wider circle. My brother and cousins drove mum and dad from their home 3 hours away. I barred any visitors other than close family at first, as I looked awful and couldn’t concentrate enough. When I relented our friends were faced with Ian who didn’t have any personality. The lights were on, but no-one was at home.

Then started daily visits from close friends, our sons, Alyson’s sister and brother, cousins. I couldn’t remember who had been from one day to the next – but I know that they all made me feel better – even if it didn’t always show on my face. Chocolates, grapes, biscuits and particularly ready-made custard were very welcome!

Work colleagues from the IT & Business Consultancy business I worked in visited and I was grateful for their support covering the projects I was supposed to be managing. Alyson’s employers Co-op Pharmacy were very understanding and allowed her all the time off with compassionate leave. The stress and worry meant that she was unable to work in any useful way.

Eight weeks in I needed a third operation as infection was still collecting in my brain. I had ‘drains’ fitted linked to bags on my shoulder – I looked like ‘Dracula’s Bride’ for a week or so.

This is a scan of my brain just before the operation on the left, and what a ‘normal’ brain looks like on the right – you don’t need to be medically trained to see the pools of infection and damage….

Scan 3rd September 2012
Scan of healthy brain

The result was a small improvement in all my symptoms; I managed to move a toe then bend my ankle.  I managed some ‘freedom’ with a wheelchair that I could push myself around the ward and, if Alyson came with me, to the café or even outside. Friends and family began to see some big changes in both my alertness and mobility.

Steve Ingrouille, the minister at my local Methodist church, came to visit and we had the strangest communion I have ever received sitting in a corner of the public restaurant. Steve did the complete service with the bread and wine used at my church the previous Sunday.
Alyson also had great support from church friends who rallied around to help and I believe that the prayers they gave aided my recovery. Val Mayers and our neighbours Stuart & Veronica Rhodes need a special mention. I continue to gain strength from my church fellowship and my faith.

My mood slowly improved and when mum visited me one Saturday as she left we hugged and she said ‘Love you son, keep getting better and see you soon’. These were the last words she said to me as the next day she had a heart attack and was put into a coma on a life support system for a week.  One Friday as I was taking my first steps unaided by physios I had a missed call on my mobile. It was my brother telling me that mum had died…she never got to see me walk again.

I was allowed out of hospital for one day to travel to her funeral 150 miles away and managed to stand using a frame to give part of her eulogy.

I had my laptop back by then to write and plan my ‘escape’ from the rehab hospital until my condition improved enough for Alyson to take me home in a wheelchair. The skilled consultants, surgeons, nursing team and physios had ‘fixed me’ – physically at least.

18 months of hard work started, to recover from my ongoing symptoms, regain my driving licence, and build my strength enough to stand on my own with a stick, and climb stairs. I did some part-time work in the IT Consultancy Business, helping the owners to sell the part of the business I was in. I knew about this before my illness but it meant me being made redundant. I then managed to get a little paid work with my church on finance and property.

Alyson went back to work as a pharmacy manager in a very busy community pharmacy attached to a surgery. This is an extremely demanding role with a team of around 20 to manage and unrealistic targets set. At least I was able to support her in this, being at home to look after practical things around the house, waiting for trades people, doing some of the household chores that until then had fallen mainly on Alyson. I was happy with a lower pace of life than before, and could rest when needed.

I had the hip replacement that I needed before going into hospital, and it was through this that I met Annette Turner, a brilliant physio specialising in hydrotherapy. When my consultant had signed me off in February 2013 he said it would be two years before we would know the lasting damage and implied this would be substantial. Annette convinced me that, whilst that was true, she could get me to the point where it might be that the only thing I couldn’t do was to move my little toe. That has proved to be the case.

In January 2014 I was encouraged by Beth Fisher, Service Manager from the Acquired Brain Injury service in Chester, to attend a support group who met for coffee. This is an amazing organisation who provide help for people with a brain injury to reduce the loneliness that can come from hidden symptoms, loss of confidence in social situations, along with memory issues and extreme fatigue. During the last few years this group has formed into a formal charity. I am now a trustee of Head Injured People in Cheshire.

Steve Price, an accountant who had been one of my project managers, had left to concentrate on his own business. In August 2014 he offered me the opportunity to work with him a few days a month to get out of his front room into an office,  taking on some people to help him.  I am eternally grateful to Steve and the team for the opportunity to work with them putting new systems, marketing material, social media, lots of new business processes in place as we grew. I became Compliance & Training Manager. (In April 2019 Steve and the rest of the team merged with another practice and he is now one of 5 directors in a company with 23 employees and a growing list of clients. I took the opportunity to retire).

I had another 18 months of physio and got to walk correctly and slowly, then six months later I decided to try running a few steps. I did a short route around our home in streets that I had used for training. It took me about 30 minutes to do a couple of miles with intense concentration on my foot placement and staying upright. I had to sleep for an hour afterwards. Fatigue is a lasting symptom of brain injury and several afternoons a week I sleep for 40 minutes, and each time I run I must sleep for around 50% longer than the time I take.

I don’t remember how I heard about Parkrun but in April 2016 I arrived at Delamere with my barcode and did the whole 5k without stopping. It was very emotional, and my account can be found at https://skatchat.wordpress.com/2016/04/.

Alyson used to come with me and walk the course before we started and meet me at the end but then two weeks before her 59th birthday she announced that she fancied running it. As someone who has asthma and have never run before I was amazed. She did her first run in 37 minutes, beat my PB the next week and after 5 more successive PBs she now runs around 30 minutes. She even fell over once and after dusting herself off for a short while still beat me by four minutes.

So the 100th Parkrun completed yesterday was an emotional one too, coming as it did on the 7th anniversary of mum’s death. Alyson did her 24th and our son Michael volunteered.  My brother Andrew did his 100th at Newcastle on the same day along with his son Thomas.

As we lost dad in 2016 and have received some money from their estate, it seemed a good time to celebrate my recovery and use their legacy to raise funds for the three charities that have helped me. So next weekend I will take on 10k at Tatton Park.

So Whats the Story?…..where I am now.

Reflecting on the past seven years, I genuinely feel that I am in a better place than before my brain injury. Sure, it has been a tough time and I wouldn’t want to inflict the stress and worry on my family that was some of our experience. Overall the positives are;

  • I am in a less stressful state than I was before – many people when they heard it may have been a stroke worried that it was due to pressure of work and church business that had caused it. I often say that my memory problems mean that I can’t remember what I am supposed to stress about
  • I feel that my faith has been strengthened, as it says in Psalm 40

    I patiently waited, Lord,  for you to hear my prayer. You listened and pulled me from a lonely pit full of mud and mire. You let me stand on a rock with my feet firm, and you gave me a new song a song of praise to you

    and when I hear the story in Luke’s gospel of the paralysed man whose friends prayed for him and took him to Jesus – I can really relate to that.

    But I want you to know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins.” So he said to the paralyzed man, “I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” Immediately he stood up in front of them, took what he had been lying on and went home praising God.
    Everyone was amazed and gave praise to God. They were filled with awe and said, “We have seen remarkable things today.”

There is no substitute for confronting your own mortality and asking the real
questions of what your life is about…

  • I have been able to spend more time working for my local church on finance and property issues, to support the Leadership Team looking at new ways of working, recruiting some amazing lay workers to support our ministers and churches.
  • I have had more time to give to Alyson and our family. Supporting them through difficult times at work and being there to help with looking after her parents and supporting her when they died these past two years. Our two sons are in well-paid roles and have been able to buy their own homes. They too have benefited from their grandparents’ legacies, and by that I don’t just mean the financial ones.
  • We are fortunate to have built up enough savings to be comfortable in our retirement. I had several good jobs in companies with strong ethics and who made a difference to their employees and the patients/customers they served.  I have been able to help a friend build his business to repay his faith in me.
  • I work with some amazing people in the head injury charity and have met some truly inspirational survivors, who live in much more challenging after effects than mine. Head injury doesn’t discriminate on the basis of age, wealth, personal background, education or experience. I am fortunate that the relationships with family and close friends have survived – that is not always the case.

So as I look forward to enjoying some travel and a forthcoming pilgrimage to the Holy Land, I wonder what the future holds, and the next challenge we will face. I hope that I am up to the task but know that I will have a lot of support.

Thank you for reading my story.

Ian Skaife, October 2019

Mothering Sunday – traditional & updated.

Even with all the advances in medical science and technology, I think we can be pretty certain that every person on earth has a mother. Many may not remember or even know who their mother is, many may have lost touch, but mothers and ‘motherly love’ form an important part of life.

We lost our mum four and a half years ago, which means I don’t have anyone to send a card or flowers to. However, I have the less traditional means of acknowledging the love mum showed by writing about it here.

Mum brought us up in a traditional church environment of Sunday school and Mothering Sunday is the fourth Sunday in Lent, a day when people go back to their ‘mother church’. Like many of the religious festivals this one has been taken on by retail & commercial interests – think Easter eggs, M&S Christmas adverts, expensive flowers & cards. In the United States & Canada ‘Mother’s Day’ is the second Sunday in May and has been officially since 1914. It is much more commercial, and has been taken up by over 60 countries across the world.

This morning I went not to my ‘mother church’, but to our local Methodist one, where Rev Den reminded us that the traditional family is a changing one. 9 million people in the UK live in single person households, many young women choose not to join the ‘traditional’ family of mum, dad and children. The number of children in a UK household has gone down from 2.4 and is around 1.7. There are so-called ‘blended families’ formed by those whose relationships have broken down, often more than once. Same sex couples adopting add to the wonderful variety of what we call ‘families’.

I wait to see this week’s documentary following ex footballer Rio Ferdinand and his journey taking on the ‘mother’ role to his children, following the death of his wife, their mother, from cancer almost two years ago. It will be full of many different emotions. I know of someone whose wife died giving birth to twin girls leaving him not only grieving, but having to bring up two young children – I can’t imagine how hard that is. In both examples I guess ‘Mothering Sunday’ takes on a whole different form.

We need to remember on this special day, those who have never felt a mother’s love, those who had a ‘difficult’ or even abusive relationship with their mother, and those who still don’t know who their mother is.

The day is also a hard one for those mothers who have lost a child and have no one to phone them, send a card or bring flowers. For those of us who follow a Christian faith Mary, the mother of Jesus, is an example of such a person.

My mum died suddenly when I had been in hospital for 10 weeks with a brain injury that left me unable to talk clearly, or walk at all. This was what I said about that in the tribute at mum’s funeral two weeks later…

I know that mum is now at peace and I didn’t feel the need to travel to be with her when she went to sleep, but I was pleased to hear that my older brother and my younger brother’s wife had been with her the night before, and dad  my younger brother were with her the moment on that Friday lunchtime when, as dad put it, she ‘looked peaceful and in no pain’. My brother had told her on the Tuesday when they turned the life support off that I had taken my first steps on the ward, and when I missed the call on Friday to say that mum had gone it was because I was taking my first few steps unsupported by the physios…..I like to think that mum was holding my hand.

We will all have some regrets for all the things which we could have done together and the times which might have been, but I will always remember the last words we said to each other as we hugged after visiting. I said ‘I love you mum thanks for coming’ and she replied ‘I love you too son and hope you keep getting better.’

My wife and her sister told me later that they believe that mum had done a ‘deal with God’, giving up her life to save mine. I don’t think God does such deals, but understand the sentiment, and I know mum, like many others, would gladly have offered her life to end my suffering.

There are people who believe that robins are a sort of angel who visit us on behalf of loved ones to keep an eye on us. Again I don’t subscribe to this, but it is good to be reminded of mum whenever I see one. Just this afternoon as I was thinking about this blog whilst cutting our lawn, a robin who is a regular visitor to our garden landed on a bush. I could hear its incessant call over the noise of the motor – ‘go on write your blog’ it seemed to be saying! This is a picture I took of it last autumn…

Robin - our garden

Mum was someone who enjoyed her garden and the new life that came from it. We put mum’s ashes under a flowering cherry tree that sits in the churchyard opposite her garden – the main picture at the start of this blog. As spring moves into summer it is a reminder of on-going life and vitality.

In addition to love and demonstrating Christian care, mum showed me that we need to remember those less fortunate than we are. This week would have been an upsetting one for her with television news having the following items:

  • The plight of mothers watching their young children die as the result of famine in eastern Africa.
  • The Westminster Bridge attack near parliament where Aysha Frade was strolling across on the way to collect her children from school when Khalid Massood charged down the pavement in a 4×4 and snatched her life away. She had just come from work, a school itself, where she dedicated herself to helping youngsters learn the language and culture of her native Spain.
  • Comic Relief and the many appeals showing the suffering of children who had lost both parents, with daughters taking on the mother’s role.
  • The appeal on the same programme to prevent mothers losing small children to malaria – preventable by a simple test and a cheap mosquito net.
  • The children dying as a result of the bombings in Mosul in Iraq – more mothers left childless.

We need to acknowledge that whatever we think of Khalid Massood and his actions, he had a mother whose feelings at this time we may never really know, but can imagine.

For those, like me and my brothers, who had the loving example of a mother who cared for us & others, her life carries on in the way we act towards other people. As my friend put it in a poem to her mum after she passed away at the start of the year, following a long time suffering with dementia…

Mum you always said when we were young that we should try our best;
helping you live with dementia was a truly challenging test.
We hope you would be proud of us, if you realised all we’d done;
we tried our best and in the end our battle with dementia was won.

We shouldn’t dwell on the recent past, happy memories we have a plenty;
of a devoted mum, grandma, great grandma , teacher and friend to many.
….

These are the memories we treasure, the ones that involve the real you;
that stranger that came into our lives was only passing through.

On that dull January day you passed away, but you haven’t really gone;
in the way we think, and what we do, so much of you lives on.
To make a difference and try our best we will always endeavour,
so mum goodnight and God bless, all my love, Heather xx

God bless mothers everywhere.

 

 

Life & Death Part 2. Walking in the light, a life well lived, three orphans & time to move on…

Our mum used to say  ‘..as Methodists we have faith and don’t believe in superstition’. We had no problem holding dad’s funeral on Friday 13th January. It turned out to be a day that started with a light covering of snow, but this didn’t settle and we were able to follow the hearse from Thornton Dale to the Crematorium in Scarborough. On the journey there, and also on our return, we saw a complete and very bright rainbow. Adam, our funeral director and fellow Methodist, commented – ‘Seeing a sign like that, makes you realise all will be well’.

Light also had a part to play the day dad died at the end of December. We had been staying for the week at a cottage on the North York Moors, with my wife’s family to celebrate Christmas. It was a beautiful spot with views over the hills & valleys of the moors. We enjoyed stunning sunrises and on many nights the sky was so clear we could see an endless canopy of stars. With the only artificial light from houses in the village and RAF Fylingdales early warning station, it was a ‘dark sky’ area.

sunrise-over-fylingdales-27-dec-2016
Sunrise over Fylingdales 27 Dec 2016

stars-over-fylingale-27-dec-2016
Stars over Fylingdales 27 Dec 2016

Dad was nearing death as the result of his Parkinson’s causing an inability to swallow two weeks’ previously. After a short spell in hospital – beside the crematorium that he would return to – dad was allowed to go back to his care home in Pickering for palliative care. Our cottage was only a 30 minute drive away, so we visited him several times. My younger brother, Andrew, and his family called in to see him on their way to relatives in the south.

The night before dad passed away I set off to drive the short journey, but a heavy fog had come down. It was obvious after taking 10 minutes to get less than a mile that it was a dangerous journey without streetlights or markings at the edge of the roads. A phone call to the home confirmed that it was they same there. I had already visited dad that morning and now he was settled down for a good night’s sleep. I returned to the cottage.

Next morning I woke up early; the fog had cleared and through the skylight a host of bright stars shone in. Lying in the quiet stillness I thought about dad and prayed to God that if it was His will then it was time to let go, and for dad to pass on to his next life. I also remembered my mum who had died four years ago of a sudden heart attack. Dad had missed her terribly and took about two years to get over his grief. Recently, in a cruel twist brought on by his dementia, dad had started asking us when we visited if we had seen mum, as she hadn’t been to visit him for a while. If we told dad the truth he looked shocked and said it was too much to bear. We decided not to lie but changed the subject and distracted him with something else.

As I got up and went down for breakfast, the sun was just coming up over Fylingdales and the sky was a beautiful pale orange colour. The air was still and a few tufts of high, white cloud were visible. Through the large glass kitchen doors overlooking the garden & fields of sheep, a tawny owl flew past slowly and gently settled out of sight among a clump of grasses. A rabbit hopped across the gravel driveway and under the wooden gate to the field. Four female pheasants came onto the lawn to feed on the breadcrumbs and nuts we had put out. A robin and sparrow sat on top of the wooden table where we had put the remaining food.  The place was teeming with life and the beauty of nature.

There was no mobile phone signal so we had been using wi-fi and WhatsApp to communicate. We finished breakfast and were packing up to leave, as we were due out by 10am,  when Anne Marie (the owner and nurse manager of the care home) sent me a message asking me to call on WhatsApp. I managed to speak to her long enough to tell me that dad had passed away a few minutes before. I heard her say it was peaceful then the signal went and I couldn’t phone back. Driving up the half mile farm track to the main road I managed to find a good signal to call Andrew. Anne Marie had called him already, and we shared a short silence and a sense of relief that it was over. I called the home to say I would visit after we left the cottage.

As I made the journey to Pickering the sun was rising higher against blue sky & reflecting off the rail tracks in the deep wooded valley of the preserved steam railway that curves through the moors. I passed the end of a narrow track off the road down which lie the ashes of dad’s brother and wife, overlooking the valley and the moors beyond.

The closer I got to town the fog, light at first, got thicker so that by the time I got to the care home it was dark, damp and cold. As Anne Marie took me to see dad she told me that she had checked on him at 25 to 9 and he was sleeping peacefully and five minutes later she came back and he had died. The night shift hourly care records all said ‘settled and sleeping quietly’. Dad’s earthly life had come to a peaceful and pain-free end. Anne Marie confided that when she awoke that morning she too had prayed the same words as me. When she had opened the window to ‘let his soul free’ as they do in many hospitals and care homes, I like to think that dad escaped the darkness of the town and soared up to see his brother and sister-in-law at that beautiful spot I passed on the way in. A place where the sky was blue, the sun shining and the birds singing. All would be stillness and peace.

Anne Marie gave me dad’s Bible to read whilst I sat with him. A bookmark was placed at the first chapter of John’s first letter; a section headed The Word of life, walking in the light.

God is light; in him there is no darkness at all.  If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.

 There was a Post-it note in dad’s writing of two other passages about faith and actions and helping those in need. A further bookmark was at Psalm 121 which we had used in mum’s service. It seemed that I had been given the readings and theme for dad’s service of remembrance.

Dad’s was the first dead body I have seen. When I kissed the top of his head it was cold, but holding his hand it was still warm. I sat quietly listening to the hymns which had been playing all week at his bedside. I cried a few tears, but the overwhelming feeling was one of gratefulness & peace.

I am usually a blubbering wreck at funerals, even for people I barely know and who have been ill for a long time. I was always amazed that the family could stay so calm. However, having spent two weeks planning the service and writing dad’s tribute, for the service back at Thornton Dale Chapel, after the shorter one at the crematorium, it seemed natural to be calm and speak joyfully of dad’s life of faith and service. We shared lots of stories and some jokes with his church friends and family from near and far. This continued over lunch afterwords.

I was given a book for Christmas written by one of my cousin’s friends Rosalind Bradley titled ‘A Matter of Life and Death’, consisting of 60 short passages by various people sharing their experiences of death.  It asks us to treat death as a natural part of life. To think, talk and plan for it, so that when it comes – which it certainly will – we and those who know us can go through the process in a peaceful, ordered way. I have yet to finish it, but some useful words found already are;

Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.    Rabindranath Tagore.

Do not seek death. Death will find you. But seek the road which makes death a fulfilment.  Dag Hammarskjold’s words as chosen by Arrchbishop Desmond Tutu in his foreword.

Our dead watch over us from inside our hearts. We talk to them, they talk to us, and their love and wisdom bless us.   Rabbi Jonathan Wittenberg.

The picture at the start of this blog is we three brothers who can now be classed as orphans, standing next to ‘mum’s tree’ at Wilton in front of the small Anglican church. We buried mum’s ashes under a flowering cherry we bought to replace one that had died. The bungalow in the background was where mum & dad spent 24 years together in retirement. Mum loved her garden so now looks over that and the Wolds nearby. Dad will be joining mum in the spring. The photo was taken after the funeral service and the flowers are the cross from dad’s coffin and another wreath from our cousins (whose mum’s and dad’s ashes are in the valley overlooking the railway and moors near Fylingdales).

As we said at the end of dad’s tribute:

…we join our cousins in becoming ‘orphans’, we also join them as living testimony to the care and love of our parents.

The fact that we hopefully are contributing in a positive way to our local community and society, being aware of social injustice & poverty, the needs of our neighbours near and far, means we will continue to be a tribute to them.

And that love and care will continue as our families grow from one generation to the next.

We all need to move on to the next stage in our lives, to let go of, but not forget the past.

Life & Death – Part 1

Someone once said that football is not a case of life & death; it is more important than that – or did they? I have watched the video of former Liverpool FC manager Bill Shankly’s interview in 1991. After saying how, for his whole life, he had put his heart & soul into football to the extent that his family suffered, the interviewer asks if he regrets that. This is his exact reply:

‘ Yes, oh I regret it very much, yes. Somebody said football’s a matter of life and death to you. I said listen it’s much more important than that.’

When he left the game after resigning in 1974, Shankly suffered depression and ended up a sad figure. Going to the training ground at Melwood, he would talk to the players, and even started trying to take training sessions. He was barred and died of a heart attack at the age of 68. A fit man who exercised regularly and was teetotal, Shankly succumbed not to the usual excesses. He died of a broken heart; the result of an addiction to football.

Our home is in the North West. For the past week Liverpool, and the families of ‘The 96’, have been on regional news programmes as well as the national ones. Three weeks ago I watched the Europa League match when Liverpool came back from 3-0 down against Dortmund to win 4-3 in the last minute. The media were full of the usual quotes about the game being one ‘that will be talked about for years to come’. I love it when sport produces such moments, but mostly they are fleeting events and ‘real life’ resumes. The following day at Anfield was the final memorial service for the victims of the Hillsborough Stadium Disaster. 27 years after ‘real death’ had visited Liverpool.

On Wednesday 27 April 2016 coverage of the ‘unlawfully killed’ verdict by the jury at the Hillsborough inquest  was constantly on our news bulletins. At last the families had the truth they craved and the fans were cleared of contributing to the disaster. It will be some time yet before they get justice.

The very next evening the attention of Liverpool fans returned to football matters. As I started to write this blog, the dulcet tones of former player Mark Lawrenson and Radio 5 Live commentator Ian Dennis were on my laptop.  The stadium this time was Estadio El Madrigal the home of Spanish team Villarreal in the first leg of the semi-final. The match ended 1-0 to Villarreal with a goal in the last minute. Fans phoned into the post-game show and mentioned the comeback against Dortmund.

Ten years ago I met my friend Mark at Birch Services on the M62 after we had both done a day’s work. We drove the 110 miles to the Riverside Stadium, home of our team Middlesbrough. Boro were 1-0 down to Romanian side Steaua Bucharest from the away first leg in the semi-finals of the UEFA Cup. In the quarter-final we had come back from 3-0 down against Swiss side FC Basle to win 4-3. The previous Sunday we had been at Villa Park to watch us lose in the semi-final of the FA Cup. Being only 1-0 down, the chatter amongst the fans walking with us to the ground was of a real possibility of reaching the final in Eindhoven.

Manager Steve McClaren, players Gareth Southgate,  Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink, and Stewart Downing (now back at his home town club), will be names known to today’s football fans. Andrew Taylor, now with Reading, also played that night. After 20 minutes we were 2-0 down on the night, 3-0 on aggregate. Surely it couldn’t happen again? Well it did. Like Liverpool we scored 4 goals, the final one in the last minute a diving header from our young Italian striker Massimo Maccarone  At the final whistle there were grown men in tears and, as well as Mark, I hugged a complete stranger, an enormous, bearded, bear of a man from the seat in front of me. The players came out after 15 minutes to warm down and we celebrated all over again for what seemed like an hour. Mark and I got home at 2am and were back in work early on the Friday.

The local radio commentator for that game was Alastair Brownlee, or Ali as he was known. Ali had been a fan long before he was on the radio and was unashamedly biased. His excitement that night reached its peak. His screams at the final whistle echoed those of the Norwegian TV commentator after his country had beaten England 2-1 in a World Cup qualifier in 1981. That night it was;

‘Lord Nelson! Lord Beaverbrook! Sir Winston Churchill! Sir Anthony Eden! Clement Attlee! Henry Cooper! Lady Diana! Maggie Thatcher – can you hear me, Maggie Thatcher! Your boys took one hell of a beating! Your boys took one hell of a beating!’

Ali’s slightly more weird shouts in the clip below are fuzzy. As well as his passion when Boro score the goals, after the final whistle sounds listen out for:

‘Boro have struck a stake to the heart of Dracula’s boys…’
‘It’s Eindhoven! Eindhoven!’
‘One of the most glorious nights in the history of football. We go back to 1876, the Infant Hercules, fired out of the foundries of Teesside, mined out of the Eston Hills, are roaring all the way to Eindhoven in the UEFA Cup Final.’
‘It’s party, party, party. Everyone round to my house for a ‘Parmo’!

 

Ali died on Valentine’s Day this year aged 56 – the same age as me. He told his listeners that he had bowel cancer in November 2015. Football and ‘The Boro’ were his life, he did a lot of charity work and promoted Teesside and the people. The fans think promotion back to The Premier League will be a fitting legacy for this season. I can’t be certain, but I think Ali, ‘Mrs B’ (as he called his wife in commentary) and his daughters would give up all that for a few more years of life.

The ‘death of the steel industry’ came to Teesside this year with closure of the modern Redcar Plant. Seemingly to our government the one in Port Talbot is more important. The estimated £200 Million boost to the local economy that promotion to The Premier League will bring, could help ease the pain of the thousands of families affected.  Boro are a club whose links to the local community are strong and important.

Boro went on to lose the 2006 final 4-0 against Sevilla. If Liverpool do indeed stage a comeback in the return leg then I hope they win the final. However, Sevilla could be their opponents too.

These days I would not drive overnight to a game, and given a chance would put time with my family first. I think I can speak for Mark  and say he feels the same about his young family.

Some things are more important than football – life & death for instance. Just ask the families of the 96.

 

Brian Bilston

Theology Everywhere

Discuss theology today to transform tomorrow

verbalising

ruminations on life at fifty ... or so ...

Discover WordPress

A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging

WordPress.com News

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.