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Sadiversaries and stuff

We begin to rationalise after a while, and I realise that soon enough no-one will give a second thought to most of the sadiversaries that are beginning to come around for me and my little Terrett family. For now we are still in the first year and so they are particularly raw. I guess for me some of the dates that are etched into me will begin to fade over time, while some will quite rightly stand out for the rest of my life.

Today is probably one of the faders. A year ago today we lost our first major battle in Ruth’s illness when we were no longer able, even with help, to care for her at home. With her total agreement it was time and an ambulance arrived and I took her into St. David’s Hospice Newport where they would continue her care. A year ago today was the last time she was in our home, the last time she saw her dogs, the last time we woke up together, the last day she was home. We took pictures in the ambulance, they are for myself and the children only, every time I look at them I break at little.

A year on my own in this house, fuck.

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What I am up to

It’s getting towards the end of the year and it occurred to me that I haven’t really spoken about what I’ve been doing, so I thought I should. A few years ago Ruth and I created our own company called Johnny Muttley which was an online retailer of gifts for dogs and dog lovers. After doing this for a few years we realised that we needed to have something else going on otherwise all we did all day, every day, every single day, always, was talk about dogs. This of course is lovely but became a little dull for everybody else, and frankly for ourselves as well. 

We both had a long-standing interest in vintage and retro items for our own home. In 2018 we started to go to auctions and quickly found that we both loved doing this. After a fair bit of discussion, given that we were already running a number of online retail sites, we decided to open an online retro and vintage goods Emporium. Following the discovery of a postcard of a really rather grumpy Edwardian lady, we came up with the name Moody Mabel.

During the following two years we quickly established Moody Mabel as a viable business in its own right and decided in 2020 that this would be our primary focus going forward. We loved it and it fitted in well with our plans for the future. We hadn’t planned of course for COVID-19, lockdown, or Ruth’s illness. Our company has now been renamed as Moody Mabel Ltd, although it’s now only me I run it on the principles that Ruth and I established. 

I don’t randomly buy STUFF because it is old, instead preferring to buy items that I like. It’s important that I can look at things and think would they make Ruth smile, or would I put them up in my own home. If I can’t answer yes to these questions then I prefer to not buy. Please do pop over to the website and take a look, I hope you like the retro and vintage homeware that you see and even if there is nothing for you please do tell your friends.

I’m planning to be around the country more in 2023, and it would be good to see you. If you have particular things that you are looking out for, please give me a shout.

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The last day we were ok

A year ago today was the last day we were ok, the last day that we were blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to us, the last day before we knew. To be perfectly frank there was nothing to remember about that day, except that it was our puppy Beetle’s first birthday. It was a day like many others. We got up, walked the dogs, Ruth probably spent a few hours at the allotment, I did some work, we may or may not have had a short afternoon nap, then we ate, then we slept. Nothing remarkable or notable in any way, except that we were ok.

The following lunchtime we ate in our local town and Ruth drove us back. Part way home she asked me to grab the wheel. When I asked why she said that she had no control of her left arm. We pulled over and swapped seats so I could get us home. When she got into the passenger seat and tried to close the door, she was shutting it on her leg. Once we got home she took to bed but was speaking and feeling fine. She thought she may have had a small stroke. We arranged for her to visit the Doctors the following morning where they took blood to get tests done. We were called in 24 hours later. The Doctor said that they had found an anomaly and needed to do some more blood work. It would need to be done at the local hospital. Innocently Ruth asked when? He replied “Right now”. It was the Friday of August Bank Holiday and for the first time we were both worried.

We thought it would be a few hours but they kept her for three days. Then the phone call “I can come home! Please come and get me, but you are going to have to be brave.” I made it to the hospital like lightening. “I have Cancer.” As I began to launch into the ‘we’ll fight it together, it will be ok’ speech she stopped me. “It is in my chest and has already spread to my brain. You are going to need to be really, really brave”.

What came after that was a few weeks of bewilderment and despair. What was the prognosis? (50% of the people with this make it to 6 months). What are the treatment options? (the chest needed chemo, the head needed radio. Not any radio but extensive because the cancer was all over her brain. Oh and one had to be finished before the other could be started). The realisation that her 6 months was now 5 months and could be extended with all of the horrid treatment to maybe 7 months. The hardest of decisions, 7 months of hell or maybe 3 good months before a decline. We told the children and then the family together that the decision was no treatment.

We targeted a good last Christmas for her and to be fair we did that, with some days in the sun and some wobbles along the way. Then a rapid decline, by mid January a transfer to the hospice and a month later my darling girl was gone. Five and a half bloody months from diagnosis to gone.

There is so much more I could say, the lying on the bed together holding hands, the strength of our children, the funeral planning and her ‘after-party’ playlist, the support from family and friends and the dreadful hole where she used to be.

Today is Beetle’s 2nd birthday. He and Ripley and I have been without Ruth for 6 months and it is the anniversary of the last day we were ok.

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And back in the room!

It has been a while! A lot has happened in the last five years including a few terribly sad things. I willl get to those on another day. For today I just wanted to say that I will be blogging more frequently from now on (tbh I couldn’t really blog less frequently). The first few posts may be a little sad or miserable (sorry, not sorry) but the intention is not to turn this into a blog of sorrow. Bear with me and you will see that there is hope, and resilience, oh and some more hope. I’m back in the room.

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Thoughts from a hill

Our family stood atop a hill in Northern Sweden. When we looked down one side we could see the towns and roads lit into the distance. When we looked down the other side, however, we could see nothing at all but trees;  no roads, no telegraph poles, and no lights whatsoever.

I briefly thought that that may be the only time in their young lives that my children would get to look out at a world without mankind and its influences.

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Wishing

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I don’t do a lot of unattainable wishing these days, I prefer to concentrate my energy on things that can be achieved. Things that will benefit my family, or others that I know, or even total strangers. Yet there still has to be a part of each of us that has a quick yearn now and then for things that are unlikely in the short term or just will not happen today when we want them.

I just woke up wishing I was in some dusty town in America, caught in a warm rainstorm whilst playing Venice Queen by RHCP over and over again. Not going to happen this morning when it is cold and grey in Wales, but hey we are allowed a little wish…

P

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A year has passed since

I had a heart attack. I thank Ruth for spotting what was happening and the staff at the Royal Gwent and Cardiff Heath hospitals for sorting me out. My heart was not damaged and they unbunged my arteries and stented me. I watched them do it on a screen above my head. Fascinating stuff. I was going to write a blog called stents and sensibility but that was just too self-indulgent when there are others far worse off.

The year has been very stressful but my re-plumbed heart is (I think) doing fine. I have removed the stress and the people causing it and am now charting my own course, with vim and vigour as they used to say.

We move forward. Always.With purpose, and gratitude.

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We changed the world

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Not something that any of us say every day but if we are lucky then once or twice in a lifetime.

Twenty years ago this week I started my work on a project called Orbitor for Nortel Networks. I was the product guy. The project became the world’s first smartphone, and although never launched it changed the way we look at and use mobile devices forever. First use of Java in a mobile phone (Scott McNealy said “I didn’t believe it was possible” to me in Frankfurt in 1997), first over-the-air download of an application to a phone, and many more firsts. The guy who worked on the background tech went on to architect the iPhone. And we all had a ball doing it.

The tech and the product means nothing now, except the legacy. This week I emailed 5 of the key players in the team, two of which I hadn’t spoken to for years. All replied within two hours. Here are some of the comments:

“Phil, What a wonderful note.  While other faculties may be failing, your memory is spot on.  It is indeed 20 years since Brian and I and the Orbitor team crossed paths with two crazy Brits and commenced a wild journey.”

“I agree.  Thanks for the memory.

 Nortel’s strength at its height came from the innovation and resourcefulness of its people, and the Orbitor team represented the pinnacle of that value.

 Projects like Orbitor didn’t just change the world, but changed those of us who came in contact with them.  We (you) are the legacy of that – keep the flame alive!”

“20 years, eh?  I didn’t have a specific date etched in my archives, but that timeframe sounds about right.  I recall at least one software developer who came into my office asking if he could join my team because he wanted to work on Orbitor.  I told him that there wasn’t any such development project at that time.  He said, “Not yet, but there will be, and you’re going to be the one to do the development, and I want to be there when you do.”  Yes, we did hire him.  We had a lot of people on staff who could predict the future.  We got pretty used to living 10-15 years in everyone’s future.”

It is a measure of what we built that a lot of the team, although busy with their own lives, have gone on to have serious careers, but still stay in touch, albeit not as often as they would like. What was it that Russel Crowe said in Gladiator? Oh yes, “What we do in life echoes in eternity”

I wonder how we are going to change the world next?

P

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The Magpie Conundrum

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You can probably tell that it is another offline Sunday because I want to talk about magpies. In my few idle moments I struggle with magpies, more specifically what to say to them and when. To explain, in my household we were brought up to say “Good morning my Lord” to a single magpie to negate the one-for-sorrow in the 1789 nursery rhyme. Superstitious but curiously addictive. But there are questions that just can’t be easily answered:

  1. If one sees the same magpie every day (there is one who practically lives in our garden), should this be said once or every time we see it. Does the sorrow go away or is it renewed each time the sun rises and has to be negated daily?
  2. When driving, what is the distance between two magpies that is permitted? If we get this wrong one way there may be double sorrow. If we get this wrong the other way and say “Good morning my Lord” twice, will we miss out on the joy?
  3. Exactly how much trouble are we in if we say “Good morning my Lord” to a bird that is not a magpie? This could be due to sun in the eyes or a part-albino black chicken that is needy…
  4. In these politically correct days, three for a girl and four for a boy just sounds wrong.
  5. Five for silver and six for gold sounds good but once again there is a problem with driving and distance. I would imagine that looking for silver and gold whilst driving would result in a crash. This would probably be down to it being four magpies and one or two singles who had not been addressed properly. As you swerve to avoid the boy from number four the crash would cause sorrow (or double sorrow), possibly involving a silver or gold “other” car.
  6. Seven for a secret never to be told is a whole other ball game. Who’s secret is it? Do the magpies hold the secret or the girls and boys? Does it involve silver and gold? Tricky.

In some parts of Europe single magpies are said to forewarn of wolves and armed men approaching. This worries me given the one in our garden.

I do like my unplugged Sundays!

Phil

p.s. written in the sunshine last Sunday.