George | Jac and Neil

Summer House / Car dancing: It has likely already been mentioned, but I'll always have fond memories of mum's dancing, either in the car (most notably with Matt Frankis, with left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right as the arm movements - DVLA would not be best pleased) and the infamous Summer House moves which were exhibited from her bathroom window. I even recall her throwing in a 'fake stairs walk' and 'going down in the lift'. Legendary.
Ian Middleton's 'where's my shorts' episode: Though neither mum nor I were directly involved, we always laughed about this. When we were walking the Coast to Coast, we stopped at a bunkhouse (which if I recall, we joked about the 'fact' that you eat up to 8 spiders in your lifetime, and the bunkhouse would guarantee you'd eat at least one). As far as I recall, we were woken in the middle of the night by Ian turning on the lights and frantically shouting 'where's my bloody shorts?'. Still to this day I'm unsure what he needed his short for.
Our trip to New York: Another fond memory was the trip to New York that mum and I went on in 2018. We had a great time, with highlights including walking The Highline, watching a show on Broadway, staying in Times Square, trying loads of different food (including a proper New York bagel) only to keep gravitating back to the same pizza place that was opposite our hotel, walks in central park and the incredible view form the Rockefeller building.
Bowling at Grandads: One of my earliest memories was playing tin bowling with mum and Nick at grandads house. He would save tins and take the labels off, then stack them in a pyramid shape and have us bowl a ball at them to knock them down. Simple times.
Writing 'Help' on the car window: Returning from a weekend in France, James Middleton and I thought it would be a good idea to write 'help' on a piece of paper and stick it to the outside of the car window (it was a good idea). The phone rang almost immediately as we returned home. Mum was asked to answer with yes/no responses, and was asked multiple times whether she was under any threat. Turns out, writing help on a car window isn't such a great idea, and multiple armed response units that were waiting outside our house were not best pleased with the time wasting.

20 November 2024

Dear Mum,

After watching the Channel 4 documentary on dementia, I felt inspired to write you a letter of my own. I’m sorry it has taken this long for me to pluck up the courage to do so.

While I want to spend the majority of this letter talking about the positives, I can’t ignore the fact that this experience is incredibly tough on me. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you. It has been hard for me to witness your decline, in particular the impact that it has had on your ability to speak, and it occurred to me recently how much I have taken for granted. I sometimes felt that your need to shower me with affection was smothering. For example, you pretty much always ended our phone calls with ‘I love you millions, billions and squillions’, which, through my 20’s, I would often cringe inside, thinking ‘Christ mum, I’m a grown man now!’. But recently, when you attempted to say it at the end of a call but couldn’t quite get the words out, it ripped my heart out and I burst into tears. Anyway, I’m not saying it to dwell on the negatives, but want you to know that I too love you and will always cherish the affection you have shown me.

Right, now for the positives! I have so many fond memories of you and not enough words to give credit to all of the good times we have had. I feel privileged to have been given so many good opportunities as a kid. You and dad never shone away from giving Nick and I a good ol’ adventure, and many of my fondest memories are from some of these journeys that we embarked on together:

There was the Coast to Coast, and the time where Ian Middleton woke us all up in the middle of the night shouting ‘bugger, bugger, bugger, where’s my shorts?!’. There are countless memories from Florida (albeit Nick and I were still deprived of staying in the Signature Suite), including swimming with dolphins in Discovery Cove, rodeos, stock car racing, trips to theme parks (especially the fireworks at Epcot) and of course, visits to Gatorland. There was the Camino. There was the adventure that you and I had to New York where we lived the lives of New Yorkers for a week. There was the trip to China, as well as a trip to Lapland and Mark Warner’s when we were younger. And of course, there were many, many trips to France to visit the one and only… Willy Man.

The list goes on… and on… and on.

When thinking back on these events it is easy to reflect on how much fun we had, almost always filled with laughter and happiness. You've always had a great sense of humour and genuinely are a fun mum. Often this came out in funny dance moves (especially the summer house dancing, or car dancing with Matt Frankis). But it also came out in your care and willingness to just be there for us… so, this brings me on to a list of ‘Thank Yous’:

Thanks for all of the lifts to and from various sporting events, parties, drum grades, plays, concerts and all of the other activities that I signed up for.

Thanks for all of the amazing holidays that we've had together.

Thanks for doing my washing and ironing for so many years.

Thank you for being kind but putting me in my place when I pushed the boundaries.

Thank you for putting up with me during my teenage years (especially when I was ‘so deprived having been forced to live in isolation at Highview’).

Thank you for all of the Thai Elephants (even though you never wanted any for yourself…).

Thank you for giving me freedom to become who I am today, but guidance when needed.

Thank you for taking score at my cricket matches.

Thank you for buying me a box of 200 Marlborough Reds when I asked for a pack of rolling papers (I still think you were trying to kill me).

Thanks for standing with me for over 3 hours at the skate ramp in Coney Hall whilst I plucked up the courage to go down it on my Skateboard.

Thank you for the head rubs.

Thank you for the many, many voicemails that you have left me over the years.

But most of all: thank you for being such a great mum.

I love you millions, billions and squillions.

George xxx