Post by isthisit on Apr 12, 2022 14:27:35 GMT -5
It is with great sorrow that I share with you that last Sunday 10th April we lost our beloved member Handy.
A few of you already know that Handy and I were fast friends, and have been for a long time. I last spoke to him on Saturday, to say goodbye. He was aware that he was tiring and the end of his journey was close. His cancer gave him a very hard time of it, especially through February and March of this year, he never complained and bore his burden with fortitude and dignity.
We spent a lot of time together over the last while as his treatment switched from a curative to a palliative focus, and most recently we talked about whether he wanted me to share his loss with you, and if so, how he wanted that to be. He asked me to share the story of our friendship, I think as an example of the power of this place, and when at its best it can achieve unrivalled understanding and empathy. This is probably the right place for a mascara warning.
So, Handy, as you requested, here is our story. Like many of you I guess, I loved Handy's posts and recognised a fierce intelligence expressed as a curiosity about the world, despite never leaving the US. He also had a dry wit, offered astute observations and a gentle understanding of the unique pain so many of us share. A long time ago now Handy shared that he had undergone an appendicectomy and gave away a tiny detail which I recognised as much more than a simple appendix issue. I was pretty sure he had cancer, and decided to reach out and say hello. I live a long way from his home and I was pretty sure that he would find my part of the world interesting and hopefully a nice distraction from his circumstances. This was one of my most splendid decisions and we quickly became friends. He did indeed enjoy exploring my world via the internet and undoubtedly knew much more about the city of my birth than I ever will in short order. He came with me on my travels and enjoyed those too. Handy especially loved the British canals, the Welsh castles and developed a passion for victorian chimney pots. So much so, me, my mum, my friends, my kids, my kid's friends, my kid's teacher, my brother, niece and nephew all snapped an interesting chimney pot for isthisit's friend in the US who was none too well. He bloody loved that. Our friendship was not one-sided though. He also shared his big skies, rim rocks and geology, and was an excellent friend to me during a very challenging time. He supported, encouraged and motivated me in my struggle with a big professional milestone when I was sure I would fall at the final hurdle. When I got across the line early this year, I swear he was more chuffed about it than I was. He was also non too pleased when I had my heart broken, which brought me much comfort. He never let me down. We also enjoyed sharing observations about geo-politics and the news across the US election and the argy-bargy at the Capitol Building, the pandemic and that daft twat in number 10, the Ukraine business and much more. I anglicised his vocabulary and he had a lot of fun with that. Quickly my day was incomplete without his emails.
As he got weaker and his world became smaller, I shared more of mine. He heard about the people in my care, the antics of my students, and his favourite, my research activity, and I was very happy to share my world with him. By now we had complete trust, and our chat on Christmas Day was the best bit of my festive season. Now for the tricky bit I have had to think long and hard about. I encouraged him to say goodbye to you all very recently, and he thought that was a good idea. Thank you to those who took the trouble to leave the notes. I also suggested that he consider sharing his experiences of his marriage during his long and distressing battle with cancer through a pandemic, as a warning to others who believe awful circumstances will bring out the best in an otherwise miserable excuse for a W/H. He did not want to, and I will respect that.
So there you go Handy, I hope you approve of what I came up with. Neither of us have/had a faith, but in case we are both wrong, when my turn comes I look forward to catching up with you.
Handy and I summarised that this place is at its best when people are able to express their story and have it received with empathy and understanding, and at its worst when differing views are met with hectoring "let me tell you where you are wrong" responses which are becoming all too common. Much is made of the romances which are born here, and of course they are important. But I am younger than Handy's youngest child, we live eight time zones and more than four thousand miles apart and our friendship improved both of our lives. This place has the capacity to change lives, or where that is not achievable it has the capacity to improve the quality of life through friendship and understanding regardless of barriers. It's powerful stuff. So, if you watch out for a particular person's posts, why not say hello? I hope it is as meaningful for you as it proved to be for me and my friend Handy. It was simply a privilege to know him.
A few of you already know that Handy and I were fast friends, and have been for a long time. I last spoke to him on Saturday, to say goodbye. He was aware that he was tiring and the end of his journey was close. His cancer gave him a very hard time of it, especially through February and March of this year, he never complained and bore his burden with fortitude and dignity.
We spent a lot of time together over the last while as his treatment switched from a curative to a palliative focus, and most recently we talked about whether he wanted me to share his loss with you, and if so, how he wanted that to be. He asked me to share the story of our friendship, I think as an example of the power of this place, and when at its best it can achieve unrivalled understanding and empathy. This is probably the right place for a mascara warning.
So, Handy, as you requested, here is our story. Like many of you I guess, I loved Handy's posts and recognised a fierce intelligence expressed as a curiosity about the world, despite never leaving the US. He also had a dry wit, offered astute observations and a gentle understanding of the unique pain so many of us share. A long time ago now Handy shared that he had undergone an appendicectomy and gave away a tiny detail which I recognised as much more than a simple appendix issue. I was pretty sure he had cancer, and decided to reach out and say hello. I live a long way from his home and I was pretty sure that he would find my part of the world interesting and hopefully a nice distraction from his circumstances. This was one of my most splendid decisions and we quickly became friends. He did indeed enjoy exploring my world via the internet and undoubtedly knew much more about the city of my birth than I ever will in short order. He came with me on my travels and enjoyed those too. Handy especially loved the British canals, the Welsh castles and developed a passion for victorian chimney pots. So much so, me, my mum, my friends, my kids, my kid's friends, my kid's teacher, my brother, niece and nephew all snapped an interesting chimney pot for isthisit's friend in the US who was none too well. He bloody loved that. Our friendship was not one-sided though. He also shared his big skies, rim rocks and geology, and was an excellent friend to me during a very challenging time. He supported, encouraged and motivated me in my struggle with a big professional milestone when I was sure I would fall at the final hurdle. When I got across the line early this year, I swear he was more chuffed about it than I was. He was also non too pleased when I had my heart broken, which brought me much comfort. He never let me down. We also enjoyed sharing observations about geo-politics and the news across the US election and the argy-bargy at the Capitol Building, the pandemic and that daft twat in number 10, the Ukraine business and much more. I anglicised his vocabulary and he had a lot of fun with that. Quickly my day was incomplete without his emails.
As he got weaker and his world became smaller, I shared more of mine. He heard about the people in my care, the antics of my students, and his favourite, my research activity, and I was very happy to share my world with him. By now we had complete trust, and our chat on Christmas Day was the best bit of my festive season. Now for the tricky bit I have had to think long and hard about. I encouraged him to say goodbye to you all very recently, and he thought that was a good idea. Thank you to those who took the trouble to leave the notes. I also suggested that he consider sharing his experiences of his marriage during his long and distressing battle with cancer through a pandemic, as a warning to others who believe awful circumstances will bring out the best in an otherwise miserable excuse for a W/H. He did not want to, and I will respect that.
So there you go Handy, I hope you approve of what I came up with. Neither of us have/had a faith, but in case we are both wrong, when my turn comes I look forward to catching up with you.
Handy and I summarised that this place is at its best when people are able to express their story and have it received with empathy and understanding, and at its worst when differing views are met with hectoring "let me tell you where you are wrong" responses which are becoming all too common. Much is made of the romances which are born here, and of course they are important. But I am younger than Handy's youngest child, we live eight time zones and more than four thousand miles apart and our friendship improved both of our lives. This place has the capacity to change lives, or where that is not achievable it has the capacity to improve the quality of life through friendship and understanding regardless of barriers. It's powerful stuff. So, if you watch out for a particular person's posts, why not say hello? I hope it is as meaningful for you as it proved to be for me and my friend Handy. It was simply a privilege to know him.
