So much to say….

I always have so much to say you’d think I’d be blogging all the time – but no, not me – it’s not the same as a good ‘chin wag’ and being able to debate topics of the day with actual live people in front of you who respond immediately. To be quite honest I can’t be bothered reading other people’s blogs and can’t imagine anyone (other than my husband and a generous friend or two) bothering to read mine. Still, I haven’t blogged in ages and I’m stuck at home today (anyone who has ever had to take ‘Picolax’ will understand) so I’m sitting here with a pile of ironing and decided to blog instead.

So what’s new? I have a friend I bump in to occasionally around town and it’s got to the point that she sees me and says “don’t tell me, someone’s died.” My brother called me the “grim reaper” for a while because I was the bearer of sad news – only because there was sad news. I have good news but seeing as I haven’t blogged for ages I’ll get the sad news out of the way. Actually, it’s very sad news. My uncle Davey – born in Liverpool – loved sport – was an amateur boxer – loved to sing Buddy Holly songs – served his National Service – married, had a child and then struck down at a tender age with a massive stroke and in that single stroke lost not only his physical health but his whole life as he new it. Alone, physically disabled, incapable of walking normally or talking normally again and much more. Silently he endured. His ‘pick you up’ came in the form of my mum and dad and aunty Jean and uncle Billy, all of whom he survived. He came to live with us. He lost his family but joined ours and for as long as I can remember he’s always been there. Recently, however, he was taken into hospital and despite the best efforts of doctors and nurses, he died and I cried. My lovely uncle who had in many ways a sad life, a life you’re glad you haven’t had to live and yet a life that he was also able to enjoy because of his love of sport and music and good company and a pint and because of the people whom God put in his life to make it more bearable.

He NEVER complained. He NEVER blamed. He resolutely accepted and put up. No one knew how he really felt. The medics of the 60’s left him to get on with it. Not for him counselling or rehab. Truth be told, I didn’t really want to know – it was bad enough seeing. Being there for him with the support of Peter and our children is what I did. But he was also there for me. He was “our Davey” and he died “our Davey” and he joins the list of those for whom my heart aches.

Davey and Sandra

2 Responses to “So much to say….”

  1. Peter Holloway Says:

    Just added a photo…

  2. Flo Says:

    I was searching for something else when I stumbled across the photo of you and your Uncle in the image search, it intrigued me. I read on and want to say that your post was very moving.

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