Like RATG I too said goodbye to a dear friend recently.

John had been a colleague, who started working at the same place at the same time as me. We shared birth years and his infectious humour and loving kindness meant you couldn’t help be his friend. As his son said on Friday: ‘Dad collected friends.’

And on Friday several hundred of us gathered in a beautiful village church to say goodbye as John, at 50, died of bowel cancer. The church was a sea of red, reflecting his lifelong love of Liverpool FC and Labour.

John tirelessly campaigned for many things in his life. Latterly he raised awareness of bowel cancer… trying to make sure people got checked out early and didn’t get fobbed off by their GP, like he did. This is not a political post but John was deeply political and with that wicked sense of humour he named his tumour ‘Boris’. His Instagram tag was ‘battlingboris’.

John also suffered from depression. He, like me, loved and cared too much sometimes. To the point of exhaustion… leaving nothing left for himself. I am at that point today. I work too hard and then find myself a quivering grumpy mess. I have been there for my friends this weekend when really I craved a little time for myself. 

What was so obvious at the funeral was how loved John was. When we are depressed we often feel unloved or unloveable. The reality is often very different. 

May we know how much we are loved in life because we don’t get to attend our own funeral.

BrumMum

A Moodscope member.