HOLMSEY: Some things are important

By Press Release May 26, 2023

In the coming days, when you drive around the Island, take a few moments to look around you. When the sun shines and nature has so evidently burst into life, you’ll never feel more grateful to be alive. I’ve been helping clear a seriously overgrown garden, formerly someone’s pride and joy, completely overwhelmed by mother nature. Chattering birdsong provided a soundtrack to my labours – a double blessing. I’m no gardener, but I don’t think I’ve ever bought a house where the garden hadn’t fallen into neglect. That said, the care put in by previous owners was usually still there – beneath the six-foot-high weeds.

As a boy, I remember my lovely Grandad Laurence’s beautiful flowers, his weed-free borders and manicured lawn. It was a tiny space, but he took great pride in it. As we age, our senses seem to become heightened, but life is busy. Competing priorities make us a little blind to our environment, as does familiarity. My recent trip to Florida was deliberately timed to appreciate their stunning floral displays. Better-off Floridians employ armies of gardeners, their layers of flowers competing to provide the most colourful spectacle imaginable.

Wherever I’ve travelled, few places stand much comparison with our picturesque little Island in spring. Annoyingly, I’ve developed rotten hay fever, accompanied by a twinge in my back. Now the wrong side of 60, digging, raking and clearing weeds and brambles quickly exhausts me, so I take lots of breaks. Before starting any heavy task these days, I ensure there’s somewhere to sit and a kettle for those vital tea breaks.

Decades ago, I sat beside my Grandma in the hospice. In her final days, she told me two memorable things. First, she said, I wouldn’t believe how fast the time goes. Then she told me that she wished she could live to see just one more spring. Although our chat was nearly thirty years ago, I still think of it often. I pass it on to any younger person I come into contact with, including my kids, of course. Unsolicited advice is rarely welcomed, but those two nuggets seem worthy of repetition.

It’s just about the first anniversary of my darling Dad’s passing. For months he fought like a lion to get better but, ultimately, illness defeated him, as time defeats us all eventually. I just wish we’d had a little more of it with him.

A year ago, my lovely Dad was being cared for on the amazing and peaceful Wellow Ward at St Mary’s. We sat beside him, distressed and emotional, but supported by the exceptional staff there. I wrote about how they made us feel. Now, with barely a week’s notice, St Mary’s management has announced the unit is to close. Reacting to the outcry that followed, they ‘clarified’ the sudden closure notice. They claim it’s just being ‘relocated’ during building works, although they don’t yet know where it will move to.

Seriously, who does that? Portsmouth’s QA had £10 million of our money to provide an extra 72 beds; maybe they’ll move it over there? Insiders say just three beds will be made available here for end-of-life care, on the Stroke ward. My Dad had to wait for a bed to become available on Wellow; it’s often oversubscribed. How on earth will three beds on a busy stroke ward be sufficient? The award-winning Wellow unit is a quiet peaceful place; surely it deserves to stay and thrive exactly where it is. Just weeks ago, they were boasting that it was in the top 5 per cent for end-of-life care in the entire country – one of the few exceptional things about Island healthcare! Its abrupt closure seems nothing less than an act of deliberate vandalism; it must be resisted.