T’was the week before Christmas...actually 2 days to go. For years I have overestimated the month of December. It is not in fact 4 weeks to prepare, after All these years, it still surprises me like an unexpected thunder storm. 

I am currently living in two universes. Sadly my brother has moved into the beautiful Pendleside Hospice. I am beyond grateful that there was a bed available and that these incredible places exist. He has been twice before for respite and for observation, they are all amazing people there with huge hearts.

The doctors are incredibly humble, treating everyone with such high respect. The nurses, the chef, the cleaners and volunteers are filled with a quiet inner joy, that comforts you as they smile a knowing smile. It is loaded with such compassion, you know they know. 

Sometime in their past you sense they to have suffered loss as it is not self pity they exude, but a genuine empathy. David was greeted like a family member when I took him in on his second admission. (All his family had Covid 😱) 

They all remembered him, they all mentioned his smile. One even said you smile with your eyes David.

 I understand these places of respite and end of life have developed over many years through others suffering.

I’ve been to a few and talking to those who volunteer, often they come back because their departed loved ones were taken care of in a way that is above our expectations. Thank you God for everyone who has helped provide hospice services throughout this hurting world. Thank you for those that work in them with a gift of excellence in all that they do with huge hearts.

Covid restricts the visiting hours to a minimum of 3 in the afternoon. This changes when the time gets closer. I am privileged to be on the shortlist of 5 named visitors.

The upside of Covid is that if I get a call to go, there should be no traffic jams and I could be there in 3 and a half hours. I trust God that if I am meant to be with my brother as he departs from this world into a more beautiful one, then I will be. I feel peaceful about that. It may be that he will go in his sleep, or with his beautiful wife holding his hand. I’m trusting God knows. He will sort it.

I’m praying for his family, his heartbroken wife, children and grandchildren. How can it be Christmas week? I trust the two boys 6 and 10 to keep the rest of them going. Thankfully children do not have the capacity to grieve as adults do. 

Forever doesn’t come into their minds. Their grief is momentary. Then it’s back to playing on playstations, or frightening everyone with your new dinosaur that actually roars. They are equally sad but they are created  to not take on the depth of someone dying in the same way as adults. That is such a relief. How awful if they did grieve as we do. 

My brother is the best grandad, fully hands on from day one. They will miss him so much, but they will remember him all of their lives. His love is engraved deep in their hearts and minds. Oliver says grandad will ‘remorf?’ anyway like in the game Fortnite, that lots of youngsters play. I like the innocent logic of a 6 year old.

So my brother is in a hospice over 200 miles away and I’ve started wrapping presents, early for me, another Covid silver lining. With all good intentions I usually end up in a flurry of wrapping paper, scissors and celotape on 24th of December telling myself next year I will...

Partly the reason I am organised is in case I get the opportunity to sit with David anytime soon. At least the Christmas dinner is in the fridge, obviously will need cooking but our eldest is fab At roast dinners, so he is the chef in reserve. 

For 33 years My ever patient and generous husband has no idea what presents I have purchased, how much I’ve spent, mostly of his hard earned money until Christmas Day. So if I don’t wrap the presents then no one will know who is getting what.

I had a near miss several years ago. Following the birth of our youngest, 21 years ago now, I had a scare where my heart raced so fast it felt like I had no pulse at all, and the cartilage between my chest bone and my ribs inflamed causing acute pain in my heart. After investigation it turned out my body had had a bad reaction to caffeine making my heart have palpitations, and the cartilage inflamed during labour, it just felt like I imagine a heart attack feels like, thankfully it wasn’t.

I had forgotten about it a few years later. My incredibly efficient mother in law was due to come for Christmas. To stay. The plan to de clutter the whole house, strip and wash all bedding, decorate to create a festive ambience, purchase all food to match the banquet we enjoyed at her house for Christmases past, light nice smelling candles to override any stray smells lingering, and to buy and wrap the presents by the 18th of December had failed. Epically.

Christmas was on the Saturday. Dear Mother in Law was arriving on the Friday afternoon. Dear husband was out with his hockey mates for their annual curry on the Thursday.

The boys ranging in age from 6 to 16 were somewhere in the house. They were number 124 on the priority list. I think I was paying copious amounts of money to the older sons to vacuum, clean their rooms and remove their pile of pants from the bathroom floor.

I had hidden the two basketful of odd socks earlier that day  in the back of a wardrobe. I found them to be a distraction for my kind MIL who delighted in spreading them out like a carpet and marvelling at how many odd socks one can have.

Christmas presents meant the men in the house would have 5 days of perfectly matched socks from Christmas morning. She would have returned back to Wales by the Wednesday.

I remember getting all the gifts to be wrapped in a huge pile in the lounge, got a large mug of tea, and shut the door firmly with strict instructions not to dare  open it without knocking.

I cannot remember putting the youngest to bed. I think they all amused themselves quietly so as not to disturb this veritable feast of presents being prepared. 4 hours in and I was buried between wrapped boxes and weird shaped presents and yet still it looked like another fifty to go.

Stabbing pains permeated right through my heart. I got up opened the door, headed for the kettle whilst telling the boys if they popped in from time to time (their big presents were all wrapped) and I was lying face down on the floor to call an ambulance as I was having a lot of shooting pains.

They are boys, they were obviously used to me speaking like that as they didn’t bat an eyelid. They put themselves to bed, Pete was still out having ‘one for the road’. I was thinking I would ‘put him in the ditch’..where was he when I needed him? 

The pain was excruciating so I called the out of hours doctor. Pete came in a Little inebriated 🥴 And went to bed.

I didn’t mention it to him, as I thought all would be well, it was just me panicking.

Eventually about 5am the doctor arrived, examined me and called an ambulance. He thought I may have a pulmonary embolism(blood clot) in my lungs.

I grabbed a couple of bits in a carrier bag, left a note for Pete for when he woke up, and one for the boys. They were all sound asleep.

The ambulance pulled up and I got in. Instantly they were putting those patches on to wire me up to the heart machine thingy. I was mortified as the lovely paramedic gently pulled my trouser leg up. Note to self. If anticipating being ill, shave your legs in preparation. 

Off we went, blue lights flashing. They asked me what level of pain I was in between 1 and 10. I compared it to labour so gave it a 7. We arrived in A and E, and they pushed me into a curtained cubicle. After a few details were given, they asked again the level of pain I was in. About a 7 still, I answered confidently. There was a low loud grumbling painful roar from behind the curtain. It made me jump out of my skin, the poor old guy in the next cubicle was in acute agony. Um maybe a 3, yes I think a 3...I realised it could be a lot worse hearing this poor mans groaning.

I needed the loo. I had been given a back to front thin cotton robe to wear, instead of my clothes, ready for an X-ray. Dilemma time. The robe came down to below my knees, baring my legs for the world to see I also needed to ‘defurr’ them. I was also wearing ‘ Bridget Jones granny knickers’. I was certain these would be visible as the gown split in two at the back.

I was caught putting my joggers back on. Luckily the nurse caught sight of the unshaven shins, gulped and closed her mouth. Women unite at times like these.

I successfully found the toilet, returned in time to go for the X-ray. It transpired it was the inflamed cartilage again. They then told me it would swell up if I was stressed. Note to self: never invite dear mother in law again for a seasonal visit.

Whilst I was waiting for the X-ray results I remember feeling remarkably calm. My prayer was to live at least til I could wrap the stocking fillers for the boys, as Pete would not have a clue what was for whom.

I vowed to never leave it that late to wrap the presents ever again. Sadly it is still normally a Christmas Eve ritual. 

 The next morning I was released, so I left with my tesco carrier bag, unwashed, slightly sweaty and caught the bus to the train station. I felt like a homeless person. I rang Pete when I was nearly home to come and collect me. He hadn’t even noticed I had gone, I woke him up with the call.

Somehow by the Grace of God, the day progressed, the house got sorted, the ibuprofen worked wonders, and we all had a wonderful Christmas.

Tonight I feel good that I have wrapped the stocking fillers, I have a bag roughly packed in case I get a call, and I can go up to be with my brave brother.

But no matter how organised I am this time, sadly whatever the outcome it isn’t going to be a wonderful Christmas. A poignant, Blessed one filled with the love our mum instilled in us from the beginning. Hearts filled with gratitude that we all know/knew and love David. A hope that he will be celebrating Christmas once again with our mum in Heaven, catching up on 13 years of news. It is not nice to see him suffering. Praise God they are controlling his pain, and keeping him comfortable.

As I said at the beginning I’m living in two universes. Life here, and my heart elsewhere in a hospice bed with the most beautiful gentle man I’ve ever known. I love you baby brother, I always will xx