A very personal post

I have to confess that I have a lot of hesitations about writing this post. Somehow it feels too close, too deep to share. 

But I also know that an important part of my work is authenticity. Even though it has not been possible over the last two weeks to share with all of my clients what has happened, I know that to continue to do what I do, I have to step into my vulnerable self, the one who has fears, who is not so sure and let her be heard too...

So I am writing. As writing helps. As sharing helps. As we are all here with our own stories. As life is not perfect and without sadness. As we love and care and have attachments that mean a lot to us, so we are going to hurt deeply when someone we love passes away.

My Dad... my lovely kind, generous, music-loving, fun-loving, joking, sporty, caring, fab Dad... 


Dad passed away on the 2 January. He was a miracle to the doctors. He had a genetic heart condition and the heart attack he had eight years ago would have killed many immediately. But he was walking up a mountain at the time and was surprised and thought he must have had a 'hunger knock' (known from his days as a racing cyclist).

The last eight years saw a change in lifestyle for him but during the great majority of them he remained active and saw three grandsons arrive for whom he was 'Pops' and who he spent time with and created some beautiful memories for us all.

On Monday at the 'Celebration of Fred's life' - which is what he wanted, almost 200 people turned up - family, friends, people who had cared for Dad during the last years and were just so touched by him, his group from Tai Chi, from the 'Nifty Fifties' sports club that he joined in his 70's...

We shared the music he loved, we shared stories and memories of a man who has inspired many.

A man who taught us that the best things in life are simple: music, good food, a glass never empty, an evening of stories and laughter around the table with family and friends… bikes!

A man who never moaned/complained about his own life – but he could rant for Rufford about the state of the world…

A man who quietly got on with things but left his mark in everyone he met – who drew people to him with his twinkling blue eyes and genuine smile…

— some of my words for Dad

My mum, a remarkable woman, was able to care for Dad at home - supported by the wonderful NHS. just in the last weeks she also had support from carers and hospice both physically and emotionally. 

They had 51 years of marriage and the friends and love shared on Monday are only testimony to their love for others and each other. I feel so lucky to have come from such a caring relationship and will always be grateful for their vision and support that enabled me to fulfil my life.   

Dad had a great life in his 79 years... he said it often. He passed away with his family around him - my sister and I promising that we would keep up the fight to make this world a better place for his grandsons (he was really not happy with the state of the world!!) 

It is an honour to talk about you, Dad... you will continue to inspire me every day. You will continue to live on in my sons - both bike crazy and with a wicked sense of humour. You will be with us when we listen to the music you loved, when we enjoy the nature and when we never hesitate to tell stories about you...

 The Yorkshire Dales... a place we love...

The Yorkshire Dales... a place we love...

Remember Me:
To the living, I am gone.
To the sorrowful, I will never return.
To the angry, I was cheated,
But to the happy, I am at peace,
And to the faithful, I have never left.
I cannot be seen, but I can be heard.
So as you stand upon a shore, gazing at a beautiful sea - remember me.
As you look in awe at a mighty forest and its grand majesty - remember me.
As you look upon a flower and admire its simplicity - remember me.
Remember me in your heart, your thoughts, your memories of the times we loved,
the times we cried, the times we fought, the times we laughed.
For if you always think of me, I will never be gone.
— Margaret Mead
yorkshire dales.jpeg