George’s story

George and I met at a local youth club in Newcastle when I was 14 and he was 16. The attraction was instant. He had jet black hair and he was very good looking. I was a fiery redhead back then, but he was always calm and he made me  laugh. In fact, in the 53 years we were together, George rarely lost his temper.

When George was posted to Cyprus for three years with the RAF, we didn’t want to be apart for such a long time. We persuaded my dad to let us get married before I was 21, so I could go with him. When we got back to England, George served at RAF Scampton in Lincolnshire before leaving the RAF and getting a job at a nearby power station. We lived in a village in Lincolnshire for 28 happy years before moving to Worthing in 2004 to be near our first  granddaughter.

Moving to be closer to family was the best thing we ever did. We enjoyed many good times together and George adored having the grandchildren around. Of course, life brought its ups and downs as it does for most people, particularly as George had severe Crohn’s disease and eventually had to adjust to life with a stoma and ileostomy bag. He handled it incredibly well. That’s the thing with George – his glass was always half full.

George was used to lots of medication and hospital trips, so when he developed a bad cough and breathlessness in 2011, he wasn’t unduly worried. He was treated for asthma, but the inhalers weren’t working. When he eventually had a chest X-ray, we were devastated to find he had advanced lung cancer.

When we arrived at St Barnabas, the specialist nurses were able get George’s sickness and pain under control. He even enjoyed a few mouthfuls of ice cream which they gave him to help soothe his sore throat.

The following day, our son, Mark, his wife, and our two beautiful granddaughters came to visit. They brought their dog, Tess, who George loved. When Tess saw him, she jumped straight onto his bed and lay with her head in his hand. I think she knew what was coming. Shortly after, our eldest son, Andy, and his wife, arrived. Everybody George loved was with him that afternoon on 10 April 2013. It was like fate in a way.

That evening, just 36 hours after arriving at St Barnabas, George died.

Ten years on and I’ll still never get used to George not being here. But the support from St Barnabas continues through their bereavement events. I remember the first time I went to Light Up a Life and how special it felt to be in a room with other people who were also remembering somebody they loved who had died.

I continue to go to Light Up a Life every year with my sons and last year I sang in the hospice choir during the event. If you’ve never been, I would encourage you to go. It’s emotional, but in the most beautiful way. There’s no better way to celebrate the life of a loved one.