Nick

Four years ago, my world was shaken on its axis. My big brother Nick died. He walked on this earth for 63 years and 17 days. Those last 17 days were tough. Like millions of other people globally (and I don’t know if the UK government will ever release the true number of people who died from COVID-19 in the UK), someone we loved very much died in hospital, alone, with someone they had never met reading our last messages to him. This was so wrong. Before he was confirmed as having COVID-19, I was sitting with him for three days in his hospital room. He didn’t cough once while I was with him. He didn’t have a cold but one night he said his temperature spiked. We had a good laugh and a great reminisce. Gray popped his head round the door to say hi – very brave given he was just recovering from his treatment. I was so lucky to spend that time with him. He died before the death toll reach 1,000 in the UK. The government had said 20,000 was its worst-case scenario. It was a shit show. When we told Mum and Dad that Nick was dying, my mum just asked if she could go and be with him. I couldn’t even hug her when I told her “no”. These things should never have happened.

Time moved in a very weird way those next few weeks, months and years, and I did fall apart quite a few times. 10 of us in our four groups attended a funeral service that was a step but I was so numbed that I felt like I was on auto-pilot. After a while I hit the self-destruct button and my life really did slide. But my kids, me friends and my amazing husband loved and supported me. I did a lot of searching inside which sounds like a cliche but Nick had a lot of great books with fab titles that just felt right to read in those moments. When Things Fall Apart, The Power of Now and The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying were my bedtime books.

I miss him every day. Shortly after he died, I dreamt he walked through the front door and for a moment, I thought he was still alive and I said to him “You are here! Are you ok?” and he replied, as he hugged me, “Yes, I’m fine”. I could smell him. It was the best dream. I woke myself up crying. Last night, he was in my dream again and was walking down the high street and I looked at him and did a double take. Again he said “Yes, I am fine”. Such a lovely dream.

I bumped into one of his school friends yesterday in Waitrose and we stood and shared some stories. I welled up walking around putting things in my trolley and almost abandoned it completely at one point. Grief has its stages and some of them include crying.

Nick was a kind and loving man. He had the greatest sense of humour and laughed a lot. He also had the gift of telling stories. And was the greatest guitarist. He guided my music taste until I hit indie and disco. But I still remember going into his room and listening to the latest Beatles album.

Our good friend Mike organised a concert once we were allowed to be in crowds again. It was so good – friends and family all did a turn and Nick would have loved every minute. Most people caught COVID-19 at the concert but by then, some people had been vaccinated, and the likelihood of being hospitalised was lessened.

We are meeting at his tree later and will raise a glass. Here’s his spotify list that we made with songs that remind us of him.

Love you, darling.