In lovely memory

At 5.45pm on Thursday 24th September 1992 my lovely husband Phil Ranson passed away and I was widowed. The cancer that had started in his bowel and moved to his liver finally filled his lungs and he was forced to give up the fight for breath.

It was the day after my 36th birthday, and he had given me the best present he could that year, simply by staying alive. Although, being a musician, he always did have good timing.

Moments of that day are fixed clearly in my memory like gemstones in a ring – clear and hard and shining. People, images, gestures and words that I can and should never forget. Similarly all the kindness and love that flowed towards me in the days, weeks and months afterwards. And still do.

The day before he went into hospital for the last time Phil wrote his will and we discussed his funeral.

When we'd finished he looked at me and said “And you. You’re not to sit in front of the telly and mope. You’re to go out and do things and be with people.”

And for once I did as I was told

Even though 36 is very young to be widowed I seriously believed I was going to turn into Queen Victoria and never have another man in my life. How could anyone compare to Phil? It would be unfair to let anyone try.

Well the spirit was willing but the flesh is very strong. In July 1993 a friend of longstanding became a partner. In July 1994 Number One son was born and given the middle name Philip. Followed in 1996 by Number Two son.

That being said, and fifteen years being a long time, there are times when I still long to speak with Phil, see him or hold him. Certain songs reduce me to tears almost every time I hear them. Sting singing “Fields of gold” is just one of them.

I think he would be a little cross with me for not letting go entirely of the grief and happy for me having a new man and family.

The internet was only just getting into its stride when Phil died. He was Wallsend’s librarian and a little dubious about how people would (mis)use computers in libraries. But he would be delighted at the idea of me blogging.

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