In Lovely Memory

This first is from a blog I wrote elsewhere on this day in 2007, the second and third from Facebook Archives (see also AFace in a Photograph 7 May 21)

 

At 5.45 on afternoon of Thursday 24^th September 1992 my lovely husband Phil Ranson passed away and I was widowed.   

The cancer that had started in his bowel and moved to his liver finally filled his lungs and he was forced to give up the fight for breath.

It was the day after my 36^th birthday, and he had given me the best present he could that year, simply by staying alive.  Although, being a musician, he always did have good timing.

Moments of that day are fixed clearly in my memory like gemstones in a ring – clear and hard and shining.  

People, images, gestures and words that I can and should never forget.  Similarly all the kindness and love that flowed towards me in the days, weeks and months afterwards.  And still do.

 

The day before he went into hospital for the last time Phil wrote his will and we discussed his funeral:  then he looked at me and said 

“And you.  You’re not to sit in front of the telly and mope.  You’re to go out and do things and be with people.”

And for once I did as I was told

Even though 36 is very young to be widowed I seriously believed I was going to turn into 

Queen Victoria and never have another man in my life.  How could anyone compare to Phil?  

It would be unfair to let anyone try.

Well the spirit was willing but the flesh is very strong.  In July 1993 a friend of longstanding became a partner.  In July 1994 Number One son was born and given the middle name Philip.  Followed in 1996 by Number Two son.

That being said, and fifteen years being a long time, there are times when I still long to speak with Phil, see him or hold him.  Certain songs reduce me to tears almost every time I hear them.   

Sting singing “Fields of gold” is just one of them.

I think he would be a little cross with me for not letting go entirely of the grief and happy for me having a new man and family. 

The internet was only just getting into its stride when Phil died.  He was Wallsend’s librarian and a little dubious about how people would (mis)use computers in libraries.  But he would be delighted at the idea of me blogging.

 

24 September 2011 at 23:09

Nineteen years and never forgotten

Paganess  He was a man who packed more than a lifetime into the years he had and gave so much to so many people. It doesn't seem like 19 years and many people will never forget him x x

Bentonbag  One of the things he said when we were told that it was terminal was 

"Well I've put more into my 45 years than most people put into 90 - I've no complaints."

He taught me to live.

 

24 September at 2017 18:24·

It's a quarter of a century since we lost Phil.

My life is entirely different from what it would have been with him: not better, not worse, just different.

When we were told it was terminal Phil said "We can't think about what we aren't going to have, we have to think about what we have had and what we've got."

There are so many things I have experienced, so many wonderful people I have met because of my boys, that simply would not have been ...

When we were discussing Phil's funeral mass at St Columba's Wallsend, Fr Pat said to me 

"As he's being cremated there will be no gravestone for you to visit.  The best monument you can make for him is how you live the rest of your life."

Wise words and a huge challenge.