In early September I will be heading to the Scottish Highlands to bag [climb]a minimum of twelve Munros [mountains over 3000 ft] in support of St .Margarets Hospice and in memory of my brother Jem.

Jem and I climbed many hills together over the years and I can't think of a more fitting tribute to a wonderful brother and a hugely missed friend.

The reasons for wanting to help support St.Margarets  are best made clear by the following,written by our mother.

 

 

Jeremy Hardie’s Story

“My eldest son, Jeremy Hardie (Jem), sadly died in St. Margaret's Somerset Hospice, Taunton, on 9th March 2009. He was 44 years old, had always taken fitness and health seriously and very much enjoyed being the alpha male of the family.

Jeremy was a photographer by profession, never ploughing the safe predictable furrow but doing things his way, often abroad, generally on his own and really relishing getting right to the heart of a country and its people. He was particularly good at gaining the trust of both the young and old, and has some amazing photographs to endorse this quality (www.jeremyhardie.com).

Being diagnosed with cancer was a brutal affront to him and he never took any part of the medical treatment placidly nor succumbed to self pity. 

Having had 2 months in St. Georges, Tooting, London, he came home to me, his mother, in Somerset. He was thrilled to be home, to listen to the birds and hear the wind in the trees. He was aching to just walk around the garden, but sadly never achieved that. One memorable night when Jeremy was wracked with pain and none of the medication seemed to be working, out of the dark came the hoot of an owl - he loved that. 

The cancer took a firm hold and he was admitted to Musgrove Park Hospital where he was looked after magnificently. The St. Margaret’s Hospice Palliative Care team based at the hospital were quite brilliant and faced his blunt questions with direct answers. He so hated pretence and never got that with the St. Margaret’s team.

Naturally Jem was apprehensive about being sent to the hospice, it was something that had never featured in our lives before and we all felt nervous. How wrong can you be? From the kind ladies on reception, to all the members of staff whether they were actually looking after Jem or not, we only ever met warmth, humour, kindness and respect. Nothing ever seemed too much trouble. My family very much appreciated their understanding and awareness, particularly towards the end when Jem’s brother Ross was able to stay by his bedside for the last 3 nights, and was given cooked breakfasts in the morning - surely way past the call of duty.

My family has been fundamentally affected by the treatment Jem received at St. Margaret's and we have made a vow of continued support forever. ‘Thank you’ does not come close to covering it, but hopefully our combined support will help a little. Jem’s brothers and sister have plans to raise money for St. Margaret’s by climbing Munros in Scotland, something Jem himself really loved doing. We also plan to use his glorious photographs to raise money and awareness.

Speaking personally I know for a fact that the word hospice means love, and with love you can achieve so much that is positive.”

 Caroline Hanbury Bateman

 

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