Liz was a neighbour really when I when I was growing up. She and her husband didn’t have any children, and when I was a teenager, I would stomp off and just go to their house. Liz would be there with a with a cup of coffee and a listening ear.
On a Saturday mornings I’d get the newspaper and pop round. She’d be doing the ironing and we just put the world to rights. She was just always there. After I moved away, she was one of the first people that I told any news to: when I got engaged, when I was expecting, and she came to our wedding. She was more than a neighbour and friend; she was family.
In 2019, we moved back to the family home: Liz and I slipped back into our familiar relationship, sitting in the garden with a glass of wine. By 2020, she was living on her own and Covid struck. We kept in touch by phone and doorstep visits. Then sadly she became ill. Â And then it was all quite quick. She didn’t really have any immediate family nearby so, there were four of us that sort of looked after her. We called ourselves the Gang of Four.
I had never been to a hospice before, and I didn’t know what to expect. I thought it might be a scary place, but it wasn’t at all. When we arrived, we were greeted by friendly staff, and everything was bright and welcoming. Despite the COVID precautions, like temperature checks, it didn’t feel like a barrier. The clinical staff were great, telling us we could stay as long as we wanted. And then when the doctor came in, he explained what he was doing. It’s this kind of detail, the space and time to not only give the care, but to help you understand the care and what was happening. It was really reassuring as you have no idea of what necessarily hospice is going to be like, so it helps to remove that stigma. They aim to make people feel comfortable and happy, giving residents a chance to enjoy their final days with friends and do things they once enjoyed.
We visited the Hospice a few times; she was probably in there to two weeks in total and loved it. Her husband had wanted to be in the Hospice but unfortunately, didn’t make it and it was Liz’s wish too; it was where she wanted to be, and it was important that she got that wish. She spent her last couple of weeks at the Hospice and I saw how fantastic they were with her, and us, as visitors. They just gave her the most brilliant care.
It was quite soon after Liz died that I did my first run for the Hospice. I missed her, and still do, and thought; I must raise some money for the Hospice. What better way than to give back to the place that looked after her.
I was already a runner at this point and so I thought, I’ll just keep going. Why not? I love doing it and I have quite the collection of medals – over 90 in total. I’ve lost track of how many miles I’ve done! Obviously, the big one was the London Marathon. The atmosphere was amazing. I had tears in my eyes rounding Buckingham Palace to approach the finishing line. I never imagined I could achieve something like that. It’s such an unbelievable experience. And what keeps you going is all the wonderful sponsorship money coming in and everyone’s support is amazing. It gives me that drive and makes getting up at 5am in the morning to train easier – although I am a morning person! I run about three times a week and try to enter an organised race every month. I’ve run 28 races for the Hospice in four years, plus the Great North Run, Manchester half marathon, walls of Dubrovnik and a 5k in the Croatian city.
Raising money in Liz’s memory makes it even more wonderful and memorable.
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