My brother Tony died on Friday 17th June after suffering a cardiac arrest on the previous Wednesday, from which he never regained consciousness. He pulled the emergency chord in his sheltered flat about 5am as he couldn’t get his breath. Paramedics arrived as he collapsed, so he wasn’t alone. He died after a few days in hospital after it became apparent that his brain had been starved of oxygen. He was two months short of 72.
He was a stroke vistim, having his first near-fatal stroke when he was only 55. He made a slow recovery from that and was able to lead a virtually normal life for quite a while, until a further stroke left him with some paralysis down his left side. He was totally on the ball mentally. We got him into a nice sheltered flat near us, and he had a whole new lease of life there for over 10 years, making lots of friends and enjoying the local stroke club and his disability scooter (which he equated with his motor cycling days) and his computer, which was a life line for him.
Every day he lived after his earlier strokes was a blessing. He had very difficult times in his life, but they were always balanced out by happier periods: his time in the army, life after divorce, when he reclaimed his fun side, and the last years in Weaverham.
His family and friends will miss him terribly.
Coping: this poem was included in my book I Sing of Bricks (Salt 2011) and was displayed here for a short time in memory of my brother.