Philip & Mum & Dad

Anglesey, Wales

I wondered if you could tell me about the original photograph?

My name is Philip and the photograph is of me and my parents. We bought this caravan in 2016, and they were very much part of our lives, so they would come for a weekend and we'd go to the Lastra Farm restaurant, which is a really nice restaurant, their type of food, our treat, as a thank you. 

“I lost both parents in 48 hours. My family is my world, so the only reassurance is that we were telling them to stay in, eat and have the paracetamol and do what the doctor says, that they'd get through it and to be strong.”

...and where in the world is the caravan?

We are in the very north of Anglesey. If you think of Anglesey as a clock, then we're at 1 o'clock on the clock, overlooking the most northerly lighthouse, Port Lynas on the tip of Anglesey, known for regular sightings of dolphins and porpoises, so quite a few people come here, and sometimes we can see them through the binoculars from the balcony.

It is an absolutely stunning spot, and you pointed out earlier that you can see the Isle of Man, there's barely a cloud in the sky, an amazing spot to retreat to. Going back to the photograph, can you remember much about the day it was taken, had you been to the restaurant?

Yes, it's a regular thing when mum and dad come, it's their favourite on the island. Sometimes we'd come for a weekend and mum and dad would stay in the caravan and we'd come back and see them again the weekend after. They're very much part of us, very much cornerstones of the family. It was important to spend time with them.

My dad was a golfer, I'm a golfer, so we'd play golf as well. It's all, well, we've got to get used to a new norm now. 

“My mum had coughs, she definitely had Covid, but she was fit and healthy, walking a mile a day, in the drama group, no signs whatsoever. Dad was playing golf and doing the garden, but he died of a broken heart basically. Even though he did test positive, he never had a cough or any real symptoms. My brother, to this day, has not had any symptoms. He's never been tested, nobody approached him, but he's never had a day of illness. Not been unwell, no cough, no temperature.”

It's a special place for you, obviously a lot of memories attached to it. How does it feel to come back here? Is it the first time you've been here since they passed away?

Yes, because we weren't allowed until the 13th July, Anglesey's been in lockdown. We'd usually come here every weekend, it's a bolt hole. I work for myself, my wife Janet has a tough job, we've got quite a lot of work involved in church as well, so it's great to have somewhere that we can come away and relax and also help friends and family by letting them stay here. We've supported a few church leaders and told them if they need to get away for a break to let us know and we'll sort it, nobody will know you're here, come and take a break!

So it's somewhere that you obviously want to share with people and allow others to enjoy, but presumably somewhere that you shared a lot with your mum and dad and made memories here together?

Primarily it was a place we knew through my wife's family, they had a caravan on the same site for twenty years. What me and Janet do every year is site down and ask ourselves 'What does life look like?'. So what does church look like, work, family, and our girls had just finished university, which was quite an expensive time, and we said to ourselves it would be great if we could get a caravan and have a bit of empty nest syndrome. So we rang the owner, who knew us through the family connection and he's particular about who's here, so we came down for the weekend and there was a couple who were thinking of selling and they were stood there cooking their bacon and eggs in their dressing gowns! We knocked on the door and they told us about not being able to do all the walking that they liked to because of medical reasons and wanted to sell, so four weeks later we moved in! We've taken real advantage of it, every New Years Eve now we're here and we have two pairs of friends who fight over who'll join us so we have to alternate!

“We were only allowed 10 people at the funeral when we could have had 200. My brother still lived with my parents, they were in lockdown, so even after both parents dying, Peter had to stay in the house for another five days and we weren't allowed to visit. It's all that stuff that you don't hear about and have no idea what people are going through.”

I wanted to ask about your mum and dad, who they were to you and what they were like?

I was born in 1965 in Cheadle Hulme. I've got a brother who's 4 years older than me, called Peter. My mum brought us up, two boys who liked to fight and liked to be boys. My dad was a travelling salesman for a James Stewart and Co. in Ardwick, opposite Manchester Apollo. His turf was Moss Side. He used to sell from a catalogue going door to door knocking selling things and he was well known in the area. He did that for thirty odd years. He'd get up early, so when I was young I didn't see a lot of him because he would finish until 7pm, get in at 8 and I'd be in bed by that time. He had half a day on Wednesday and Sunday off. Wednesday afternoon he'd be on the golf course, so Sunday was family day. 

Then when dad retired, the first proper thing I did as a son was to give them two granddaughters. The first time I ever took a photo of dad with a smile on his face was holding Heather. All the previous times he'd bee quite stern, typical of that generation, wouldn't smile for the camera, but he was a great laugh. He was great to be around the dinner table, he'd tell jokes and had a great group of friends. 

So dad had work and golf, mum had us and she was also the bursar at the Ryleys school in Alderley Edge, and was very into amateur dramatics, so was part of the Wilmslow Green Room Society. She was in a lot of plays, then did a lot of backstage and in her older years did a lot of wardrobe, so there's a team of 6 that meet every Tuesday to talk and sort the wardrobes out.

People have summed up Mum and Dad with various different things. The pity, obviously, has been that I lost both parents in 48 hours and could only have 10 people at a funeral when we could have had 200. I've had to talk to a lot of friends, talk about them and put stuff on facebook. I've had a few key people in each group, the golf club, the drama club who I've given information so they can pass it on. We printed 100 orders of service and posted them out to different people, just so there was something for them to share on the day. We did a video, which came three weeks later, so we can share that with people, but obviously we've learnt that you don't get what you want. Nobody got the funeral that they wanted, I buried my mum's ashes on Saturday and there was 10 of us. It's nice that the ashes are there and all that, but it's still not the way we ever wanted to do it. 

I've learnt to say the words 'Best endeavours'. So I've tried to do the best to acknowledge them and pay them tribute and if we can be half the people they were then we're doing a good job. 

“Do I feel part of a global thing? No, not really, because it hits home. I suppose the only comfort is that there isn't an answer. There isn't something that we could or should have done to make the result anything different that what it was, because nobody had that knowledge. Everybody was scared and there are still friends of my mum and dad that haven't gone out.”

It sounds to me like you absolutely have done the best you can. It's a strange time for so many facets of life, but to lose someone and then not to be able to go through the rituals you'd expect can't be easy.

Well the tough thing is that because my brother still lived with my parents, they were in lockdown, so even after both parents dying, Peter had to stay in the house for another five days and we weren't allowed to visit. It's all that stuff that you don't hear about and have no idea what people are going through. My parents would ring up the GP and were just told to keep taking the paracetamol because nobody knew what was happening, nobody knew anything. My mum had coughs, she definitely had Covid, but she was fit and healthy, walking a mile a day, in the drama group, no signs whatsoever. Dad was playing golf and doing the garden, but he died of a broken heart basically. Even though he did test positive, he never had a cough or any real symptoms. My brother, to this day, has not had any symptoms. 

It's so strange isn't it, very hard to put into words. 

Nobody's got the answers, because nobody knows what we're dealing with. You get a lot of experts and scientists talking, but until there's a vaccine and we understand how this thing mutates, then we are, well, less blind, but still pretty blind to how this is affecting us. 

“For the first three weeks after my parents died, I became a bit of a counsellor. People would ring me up and I'd have to explain everything and say well, we have to look for the silver lining in it all, we have to find something every day that helps and is a positive. We've done that, we have managed to find that glimmer, even little quirky things, memories of them, thoughts of them.”

How does it feel to experience something so personal amidst something that's been global?

I suppose the only comfort is that there isn't an answer. There isn't something that we could or should have done to make the result anything different that what it was, because nobody had that knowledge. Yes, maybe if we'd locked down a couple of weeks earlier and they hadn't gone to the bridge club. Did they get it from the bridge club? Who knows?! No idea. 

I even had one person ask me, 'What did they touch to get it?', and you think, well, I'm sorry. I gave a tongue in cheek answer but everybody was scared and there are still friends of my mum and dad that haven't gone out, who wanted to come to the scattering of the ashes last Saturday and they're still too scared to come out. 

You can understand that in a way though, if they've lost some of their closest friends.

Oh yeah. When the TV keeps telling you that if you're over 80 then you're at significant risk and if you're only 70 the risk halves, but we don't know what we're dealing with. To go through what we went through, and for my brother to go through what he went through, he's become my hero. We just have to look after him to make sure he's the best that he can be now. 

Do I feel part of a global thing? No, not really, because it hits home. My family is my world, so the only reassurance is that we were telling them to stay in, eat and have the paracetamol and do what the doctor says, that they'd get through it and to be strong. 

My mum was the strongest out of the three of them in the house and my brother is the one that's never had a cough and had to give CPR to both of them. He's never been tested, nobody approached him, but he's never had a day of illness. Not been unwell, no cough, no temperature. Nothing. 

It's just absolutely brutal isn't it, and as you were saying, there are so many hypotheticals and unanswered questions aren't there.

Yes, well there are a lot of people being paid a lot of money to say not a lot. 

“They were part of the community, the neighbourhood, the drama club, the golf club. I used to sit and watch every United game with my dad, we were avid football fans and we'd chat away, so the first time I watched united I put a glass of white wine next to me. That's what makes it tough sometimes, those chats, those little bits that fill in your week. It's good to talk it out, you have to do that.”

It's amazing to hear about your parents being so socially active and engaged right until the end.

Until they locked down they were playing bridge three times a week, I was visiting once a week, they looked after my brother, he worked, so when he comes in from work. They were part of the community, the neighbourhood, the drama club, the golf club. I used to sit and watch every United game with my dad, we were avid football fans and we'd chat away, so the first time I watched united I put a glass of white wine next to me. That's what makes it tough sometimes, those chats, those little bits that fill in your week. It's good to talk it out, you have to do that.

Even today, I played golf at Henlly's Hall, which I'd done with my dad a few times and I would have played with him, I would have played with him on Father's Day. Then even when I don't play with him and play with someone else, I'd ring him up to tell him how I got on. They were so much part of our lives, so much.

I lost count of the amount of times I went to pick up my phone to dad after he'd gone.

You just click because you don't have to have those 'non understanding' conversation, compared to when you meet someone you don't know. They've been with you through everything, and I'm just so pleased that they saw both my daughters get firsts, graduate and be in the jobs that they want to be in. They bursted with pride about my girls. 

“We summed it up quite nicely in that if somebody else came into the room, that person became the most important person. So it was never about them, they were the host and hostess. Drop everything, someones come in, what can I do for you, get you a drink, something to eat, oven on, and we'll look after you, tell us what's going on in your life, is there something we can help with?”

Rightly so by the sound of things! Finally, I wanted to ask if you'd thought of ways to pay tribute to them. You've already done a lot with the services, the ashes, but are there particular places you'd like to go back to or ways in which you can celebrate them or keep their memory alive?

I think we keep their memory alive by talking about them and keeping them in the conversation with friends and family. I'm never afraid to talk about them. What we've done with the ashes is that we've got them divided up. Half of mum's ashes have gone to St. Lawrence's church in Coppernall, where my granny is and my granny's parents are. There was no stone for any of them, so I looked into it and found that there are 11 of my granny's family in the grounds. So I've done a stone with their names and dates, my great granny, my granny and mum, so there's a place where people can look and see what the connection is and also there's respect for the family, who were there, but nobody knew they were there. 

For dad we've done a bench with 'In memory of John and Olive Bradbury', and that's going at Gatley golf club where he was a member for thirty years. We're going to do half of his ashes in the flowerbed that he looked after on the course. So the chair will be by the car park on the edge of the course so people can go and see and it's not half way through a golf course!

For the other two halves of the ashes, we used to go as a family to Abersoch every year and my mum's bosses' summer house is there with an acre of land. I spent my first sixteen years having summer holiday's there. They still went every year, they were still allowed to go, the family kept on the tradition when mum's boss passed away, and mum was very much part of that family as well. It just shows who and how she was. I was supposed to be there for my birthday in May, but they passed away at the end of March. So the other two halves will be scattered at a bench in the grounds of this house which has got lovely views over Abersoch. So there'll be two definite places that people can go and pay their respects, because obviously there are over a hundred people who haven't been able to go anywhere to pay their respects so far. I'm trying. As I said earlier, best endeavours!

“I'm just so pleased that they saw both my daughters get firsts, graduate and be in the jobs that they want to be in. They bursted with pride about my girls. I've tried to do the best to acknowledge them and pay them tribute and if we can be half the people they were then we're doing a good job.“

It sounds lovely, and three very suitable spots for everyone to be able to go and pay tribute when they can. I think it's extremely admirable that you're able to think about so many others in amidst everything else. 

Well you have to, you've got people who are scared to go out of their house. To be honest with you, for the first three weeks after my parents died, I became a bit of a counsellor. People would ring me up and I'd have to explain everything and say well, we have to look for the silver lining in it all, we have to find something every day that helps and is a positive. We've done that, we have managed to find that glimmer, even little quirky things, memories of them, thoughts of them. 

I think of mum and dad, we summed it up quite nicely in that if somebody else came into the room, that person became the most important person. So it was never about them, they were the host and hostess. Drop everything, someones come in, what can I do for you, get you a drink, something to eat, oven on, and we'll look after you, tell us what's going on in your life, is there something we can help with? They fully invested in anybody that came anywhere near them! They weren't Mr. and Mrs. Grumpy, they were interested and you're more important than us. Hats off to them for doing that.

That's amazing, and I think you're paying a great respect to them in following on from their example. 

Thank you.