Hospice 100 Challenge

This May, I am taking part in the Saint Michael's Hospice 100 Challenge, Harrogate, in honour and remembrance of my late, great Mum, Careen Burcher & Dad, Michael Burcher.

By way of the challenge, I will:

• Run over 100 miles in May, including a few half-marathons and maybe more (legs dependent)
• Complete 100 press-ups per day for each of the 31 days of May (3,100 in the month)
• Perform 100 sit-ups per day for each of the 31 days of May (3,100 in the month)

It is nearly seven years since Mum passed and a little short of a year since we lost Dad to cancer.

Dad battled bravely throughout his illness, as resilient, stoic and strong-willed as he had always been. I will never forget the day I learned of Dad's cancer. I was returning from my first business trip in a new job and was at Heathrow. Dad had kept the fact he was going for scans and a biopsy from me, as he did not want to worry me. When I rang him, I could tell something was wrong. When he told me, it levelled me.

Being with Dad in his subsequent consultancy sessions, hearing the cancer was inoperable and could not be beat was like nothing I will ever know. Floored and desolate.

Dad always believed that if he fought it, he would buy time, and new treatments would come to prominence. That dogged belief saw him rack arduous chemotherapy sessions into the mid-20s with humour, grit and resolve. Sadly in the early stages of 2020, Dad's resolve abated, cancer began to win over at a faster rate.

As Covid began to rear its head, Dad's treatment was home-based with a range of palliative care that makes you proud beyond any words of our highly skilled healthcare workers, NHS and Macmillan.

When Dad and we as a family faced his final days, it was then that he transferred to Saint Michael's Hospice.

Saint Michael's Hospice - Words are just never enough.

There could not have been a more picturesque oasis of calm to respectfully say goodbye to our Dad, with dignity and comfort. The only thing better than the view and surroundings was the staff. No words can do them justice, but I will try a few - supportive, compassionate, communicative, empathetic, respectful, dignified, comforting, warm, loving, good-humoured, proficient, professional, immense, magic 🙏🙏🙏. To the whole team, Helen, Jan, George, Dr Smith, Jo, Clarisa, Claire, Laura, Max, Kat, Gemma, Donna, Mandy, Charlie, and many more, thank you 👏👏👏.

All the support, care and attention my Dad and we as a family received was in the backdrop of Covid, lockdown and PPE in hot summer days - it was mesmerising. So good was Dad's care that on his first night at Saint Michael's, he believed himself to be in a country hotel, asking us if it was à la carte and whether he could see the drinks menu.

On Dad's final Saturday, it may sound daft, but there could not have been a more beautiful way for my brothers and me to say goodbye to our Dad - and that was all down to Saint Michael's Hospice.

I could never articulate how much my Dad meant to us and how thankful we are for the love, belief, opportunity and standards he and my Mum set. Thankfully, Saint Michael's reflected all of the values our Dad stood for with the treatment they bestowed and honoured him.

The below is a poem entitled 'All is Well' by Oliver Wright. I have it saved on my phone and I have for years. The sentiment and message could not be more accurate or apt.

All Is Well 😊.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is unbroken
continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, Just around the corner.

All is well 😊.

Parents are awesome!

Only through coming of age or becoming a parent can you truly understand what parents give to us. What they sacrifice for us, teach us; how much they love and cherish us, put us before their everything, protect and unconditionally support us. PARENTS ARE AWESOME - get them told👍👍👍.

I said there would be a time to raise some money for the hospice and that time is now. If you can spare a few quid, no matter how small, it counts and makes a world of difference to so many. Alternatively, if you have a cause close to your heart, why not donate to them? Or carry out a few random acts of kindness in the month.

I'll keep you updated in the month.

Thank you so very much.

Richard Burcher