Personal

Dear Simon

Date: Tue, 16 Jan 2001 16:12:46 +0000
From: Paul Bennett <paul.bennett@...>
To: Simon Woodman <simonandliz.woodman@...>
Subject: Christmas News

Thanks for your card at Christmas: it was good to hear from you.

You've perhaps not heard that we had a very eventful Christmas with the family, so I'll fill you in. There's no easy way to approach this... wit and vagueness always make for good introductions to stories, but they're no good here. Suffice it to say that this Christmas, we've seen one life come and one life go.

As you know Dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer of the liver just over a year ago. Back then we were asking ourselves, "will he last until Christmas?". A year later, we astonishingly found ourselves asking the very same question. 2000 in many ways was a "stolen year" for us: an opportunity to plant memories while we could.

When Dad's course of chemotherapy came to and end in September, he decided it was time to take a break from the drugs. Surprised that the specialists agreed to a month's rest, Mum and Dad immediately flew to South Africa for a holiday. They had the chance to realise many life-time ambitions: to travel on the famous Rovos Rail train, to visit Robben Island, to see Table Mountain one more time. However, much of the time Dad was very uncomfortable; they came home two days early of their two week target.

I collected Mum and Dad from Heathrow, and later that day in November, Dad was admitted to hospital. A month later he finally escaped, but with the knowledge that there now really was nothing else to be done. As the weeks passed, we saw him grow weaker (in body), but more determined and peaceful (in mind).

One week before Christmas, Dad's health had deteriorated to the point that we decided to all gather at home: Mum, Dad, Jez, Jo and Tim, Ruth and Keith, and me. He grew weaker still that week, but still showed no sign of dying. Instead, we had one last Christmas together: all trying desparately hard not to wind each other up!

Finally in the evening of the 30th December, Dad slipped to another, lower plateau of health. It was as if he'd been holding out for the 30th: the date Jo's first child was due, the date of his 33rd wedding anniversary, and the date of the publication of the New Year's Honours list, in which he was awarded an OBE.

Four days later, Dad died.

Three days further still, Jo gave birth to a baby girl: Isabel Ann Powell. We were all gutted that Dad wasn't able to hold his first grandchild, but her arrival reminds us all of the progression of life.

We buried Dad on Saturday this week. Perhaps as many as 400 people attended the memorial service after the funeral. Three local papers (that we know of; two in Sussex, one in Hertfordshire) ran Dad's story on their front page. It's astonishing to think just how many people this man impacted. I still can't get it into my head; it's a tall old order to live up to!

So there you have it: the most eventful winter break I've known. I'm sorry I didn't fill you in more as the events were unfolding; you can imagine we were all kind of busy.

Hope you had a great Christmas. Mine was, but as you can expect it was flooded with every emotion you can possibly imagine.

pab.