Notes For A Funeral…

I wrote the notes below for inclusion in a eulogy for my brother. They were the last words I wrote in quite a while, pretty much until I landed on Substack.

They're not edited for this piece. Just a set of words I wrote to myself.

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The time he fell out of a tree. Was stopped from falling from a great height by his jumper, when it got caught on a branch. It was a tatty old thing but it certainly saved him from injury that day.

Playing headers in the local baths. We’d stand opposite one another, one of us was goalkeeper, the other super star striker. The striker had to try and head the ball back past the goalkeeper. First to score five goals was the winner. I always wanted to win, you can’t be losing to your little brother. I think he was content just to play. Maybe back then, he understood the importance of just being.

The weeks at Val and Eric’s during school holidays. They used to take my sisters one week, then me and Ali another. Obviously they couldn’t cope with us all at the same time. Only my mum and dad were black belts in that. They ran a newsagents in Stanley, County Durham. We both loved to accompany the ‘paper lads’ on their rounds. They seemed like giants to us, although they were all no older than fifteen. When we got back we’d sit in the shop reading the comics or serve the local kids at the 10p mix counter (two for them, one for us, one for them, eight for us etc). A couple of times a week, we’d walk along to the local swimming baths. They had diving boards! If this wasn’t exiting enough, imagine our levels of ecstasy when they got a water slide!! And not just any water slide, this one started inside, went outside, then came back inside again. It might have been the most exciting thing either of us had ever seen. There was nothing in Wakefield like that then.

Stitches in his bum. He slid down a grassy hill close to the Navigation Pub. Sliced his rear end open on some broken glass. The wound needed stitches. A couple of weeks later we were on a family holiday, Wales I think. We all watched through the window as Dad removed them with him laid on the kitchen surface. Very amusing, although probably not for him.

Games of two a side football with the Murrell brothers. Me and Rob v Ali and Andrew. We nearly always lost. I’m just about over it (I’m not).

Lizard hunting on the rocks in the South of France on holiday. We used to be gone for ages. Lost in the adventure, in the moment. The way kids do, the way brothers should.

Not solely an Ali memory, but Christmas Days at 16 Oxford Road. Particularly when were all young and Auntie Val, Uncle Eric, Gary and Christopher would come. Oh how we all loved our Matthews family (don’t use if Auntie Elizabeth is coming).

Note: (Alistair is the one in the green jumper)

He borrowed some poker dice from me once, without asking. I reacted very badly and was very unkind to him for a long time. The problem with this is there are always consequences to our actions. I carry the thoughts with me that, if I’d have been a better brother to him during those years, his life might have been different. I know that’s unlikely but still. We think what we think. I’m very sorry brother. I hope I can be better when we meet again. I share this, only to remind us all that time is precious. Use it wisely and don’t hold on to things that don’t matter. You will regret it forever.

The day in CAP, the surgery, and A&E at the beginning of this year, his last year. Although the pain of those hours will never leave, the opportunity to see how those, with no real connection to him, cared for him, willed him to stay with us, and understood what we were going through, was also something I’ll never forget. There are so many decent people in this world. Despite his challenges (or maybe because of them), he was lucky enough to meet a good few. I also feel lucky that he did and will be forever grateful.

These last months visiting him in the hospital. I found it very hard. Never quite knowing how it was going to be from day to day. On the bad days it was incredibly difficult to see him that way. On the better days, as he started to make some kind of recovery, I had to work hard not to become too hopeful. Instead I focused, just on the visit. We talked, remembered, laughed a bit, ate the crisps I brought with me. It wasn’t always perfect, I occasionally found him very frustrating, I’m sure he found me annoying. That’s just brothers though, he’s annoying  me now lying where he is. He shouldn’t be lying there. It’s not how things are supposed to be. In those difficult days, there were nice moments. Some of these visits provided them. I consider myself lucky that we were able have these hours together before he finally left us.

See you down the road brother. I love and miss you ❤️.