Algorithms and the creed

Facebook quickly recognized my bereavement and its algorithm now sends a daily stream of meditations on grief. Is this helpful? Occasionally, yes. One was titled: Mornings are the cruellest.

The morning light comes in the same way it always did, like the world didn't lose someone irreplaceable. And for a moment I just lie there caught between the life I had with you and the one I'm still learning to live without you.

I get up because I have to, but every morning begins the same way now                                              With your name on my lips, with your absence in the room                                                                  With another day ahead that you won't be in.

This resonates .Mornings are the worst for me. I know it's still early days.  Sometimes the meditation are bleak.

When the loss is deep enough it doesn't just break your heart. It breaks the foundation beneath your life. And from that moment on you are learning how to stand on ground that no longer feels familiar. 

No, the foundations are not broken. True much is unfamiliar - I am learning to live on fresh ground. But it's more a question of widening foundations. That's why I was drawn to a meditation (by Dick Willliams in Godfacts,19.73) on that credal conviction: I believe in the communion of saints.

Lord, slowly I am learning that You are my life, and I am learning that You are the life of all who love You;                                                                                                                                              I am learning that we who love You share the same life, and I am learning something of the sweetness and the splendour of that sharing.                                                                                      I am learning that when it is shared, our life in You expands according to some inner principle of  spontaneous growth like fire.                                                                                                            And I remember that You are eternal. You do not die. So that if You are my life, I shall not die.      And those who go before us with you as their life, live in you still, as I do, as your family on earth does.

Lord as we worship You (You who are our life) our love explodes across time and through eternity... catching us together from both sides of death's division and fusing our worship into one great act of praise.

You are God - not of the dead but of the living.

It is slowly learning but what deeper foundations! 

The first horrid birthday

That's what someone called yesterday. The first time I had to face Carol's birthday without her. It's true that certain occasions particularly unlock emotions. It was a year ago that Carol made her last  public outing, when our church life group celebrated her 80th birthday with a banner, diet Coke and good food. Looking far from well, she rose to the occasion and enjoyed the poem created in her honour.  

Yesterday many kind friends remembered the date and sent me messages of love. Good friends travelled from Suffolk to a National Trust Property (Anglesey Abbey) near Cambridge just for me. They treated me to lunch and then we walked a couple of miles through the grounds with spring flowers awakening around us.  What a kind idea to share in a time like that!

Later I was with our church life group for a fish and chip supper remembering Carol one year on. At a sad time there are few better experiences than being wrapped around by friends who not only remember Carol with affection and who miss her with me, but who shared in an extended prayer time one year on.

Yes, there are aspects that are 'horrid'. The loss of someone you deeply loved for 58 years inevitably leaves a cauldron of turbulence. Emotional disturbances bubble beneath the new normal. But I rejoice in yesterday's kindnesses. Thank you to all my friends for wrapping around me!

You're with Jesus, right?

 Four days before the funeral a white van drew up outside. The driver had worked on my solar panels a couple of years ago. Now he was back to wash them! They've been up for over 10 years and through sheer neglect have developed a thickish layer of algae and grime. A skilled salesman he emphasized the benefits of allowing him and his companion to clamber all over the roof (back and front) with a cleaner and (my) hose. 

Was I interested? No. It was among a number of things that I did not want to be bothered with as preparations gathered for Carol's funeral.  Yet, I realized inconvenient though it was I probably would benefit! So, reluctantly, I gave permission and admit they returned the panels to pristine condition - the solar units since have shown appreciable bounce.

When he came to say goodbye he asked about my missus. And then he saw the card display as I explained that she had died. 'Oh, he said, she was a lovely lady. I'm so sorry.'  As he was turning away he suddenly wheeled around. 'She's with Jesus, though, isn't she? You're with Jesus right!' 'Yes,' I replied, 'I'm with Jesus.'  'That's everything that is,' he said. Pulling down his t-shirt from his neck, he showed me the tattoo over his heart. A cross with the words: JESUS SAVES. 'I was in a terrible mess. My whole life. Drinking and all that. Going nowhere I was. And then I met Jesus and he's changed me. And he will never let me go. He's the way to heaven. I am the Way, the Truth, The Life. That's him. So we know that for your wife. She's safe with him.'

You just never know, do you? From a man on my roof came a powerful spiritual message, a testimony of faith, straight from his heart. I have smiled about this unlikely reinforcement of Christian comfort several times since. It's really good to be with Jesus, right? 

Scarf Sharing

 As friends entered the church and looked to the front they saw flowers on a pedestal, further flowers on the edge of the platform, and at the back along the baptismal rail over 70 scarves - the best from Carol's collection. The service sheet ended with a message from me:

One of you wrote: Whenever I think of Carol I hear laughter, see wonderful colour and love. True-and she loved colourful scarves. So today we took the best of her scarf collection, some unworn even, and displayed them at the front. We hope that many of you will feel able to take one away with you as a colourful reminder of dear Carol.

This rainbow range of brightness hit three aspects of Carol's personality

• Her love of scarves for every outfit and occasion. Over the years her collection grew, increased by gifts from friends (who knew how acceptable another scarf would be)! and boosted by gifts Carol packed in her present box for others. My daughters-in-law discarded the worn scarves and chose the best for the display.
• Her love of colour - Carol was educated in art and design at Goldsmiths College, London but she always had an abiding sense of style - always blending colour to suit the occasion.
• Her love of giving gifts - I mentioned in the service the four boxes of gifts in the garage amassed by Carol in this desire to give appropriate gifts. So, she would have approved of her collection being given away at the end of the service.

At the service's conclusion a stream of friends flowed onto the platform and nearly all the scarves went, with many people immediately donning one.  Over tea several spoke about the scarves around their necks: I remember Carol wearing this one! This one is so Carol! How wonderful to have a reminder like this!

The photo shows some family flowers on the platform edge with the rail display at the back.

Thanksgiving Day Link

A bright day of full sunshine, full church, with an engaged Zoom congregation - what a celebration! I need to post about the 'scarves sharing' next time, but this post publishes the link for the service for those many friends who could not attend!  With the (vitally necessary) help of IT friends (including my grandson) I have added the link below. 

At funerals you may reconnect with many friends from the past. That happened in splendid clusters yesterday. Two Australian friends were the furthest travelled, but time-travelling took me back to the church where I was a teenager (Arbury Road Baptist, Cambridge), and many friends from 1980-1993 at St. Andrew's Street Baptist Church, Cambridge as well as Spurgeon's (1993-2000). The church in Blackburn and seminary in the USA will mostly need see the recording. Our current church in Histon excelled in the best of preparations, food, music, AV and just being there. I am immensely grateful to our pastor, Chris Farmer, for his sensitive leading at the quiet family cremation service earlier in the day and then the full thanksgiving service later.  

It's difficult identifying a few highlights but let me single out:

• The major focus on giving thanks to God for Carol which really sounded out. As someone said: No one could fail to see the Christian joy throughout.' 
• Photo montage through Carol's life, especially showing the determined little girl full of character.
• Both my boys spoke movingly - it was special hearing their recollections, which included....
• Audio recording of Carol (in 2015) telling how she met me for the first time.
• Histon church tribute with a poem on her 80th.
• Scarf sharing - more in next post.

Among other thanks, I mentioned (had to) Carol's talent for match-making in Cambridge and Spurgeon's. Someone calculated that least 7 couples were present whom I had married, of which three pairs had been encouraged together by Carol. What fun in reconnecting over a mammoth tea. afterwards. Many individual conversations I will treasure for a long time. Oh, so much that I shall treasure of the whole day!

John Gooch of our AV team gave me the link below. You will be able to see the full service and also the photo montage of Carol.  Hopefully when you click on it, all will become clear. Thank you for being part of a special day for my family.

 Thanksgiving Carol Quicke

Nearing the time.

Preparations for Carol's Thanksgiving Service are speeding up, with the big unknown inevitably still unknown - how many friends will actually attend! I guess it could be very crowded.

VENUE: Histon Baptist Church, Station Road, Histon, Cambridge CB24 9LQ

TIME: 1:30 pm on Monday 27th April.

Some additional parking will be available but I know it will be busy in the village.

ZOOM; For many friends who unable to attend the service we shall zoom, using the same ID as used for live Sunday worship. For the ID please see the Histon Baptist Church website welcome page: www.histonbaptist.org.uk.

RECORDING: For many friends unable to zoom we intend recording the service. I shall provide further details about how to listen to the recording.

DONATIONS - instead of flowers, though the church ladies are preparing the church colourfully, we are designating two charities, both of which became important to Carol.

• Arthur Rank Hospice Charity may be sent c/o Peasgood &Skeates, 164 Histon Road, Cambridge, CB4 3JP
• Histon Baptist Church may be made directly to the Church Sort Code 20-17-20 Account 83701808

DRESS - we know many friends will not see this message but the family would encourage the wearing of some colour! Carol loved colour.

I continue to be overwhelmed by all your kind messages and encouraging memories - it really brings comfort.

Corrective note

I must make clear that my Easter gratitude (last post) is genuine and the risen Jesus holds fast my faith. However, I realize how it may have sounded almost facile to skeptical friends. Is accepting a loved one's death that easy?  I need to add some reality, not to dramatize the sadness, but to safeguard against any impression that these last months have been coasting in comfort. Times of desolation have been acute. And were Carol's prayers answered in ways that she wanted? No. Our Christian faith faced struggles these last few months. Do I need to mention this? Well, only to underline how faith in God does not protect you from distress, but grants a way through. 

Carol was in bed for much of the time since mid-July 2025. Being at home meant comfort was always near. She never mentioned feeling alone or scared! However, her seven weeks in hospital was a different matter  During each day I stayed 8 to 10 hours. Her neurological disease (still undiagnosed as we await further brain post-mortem results) gave her times of lucidity in the midst of complete unreality. This was a frightening combination of knowing everything was strange around her with constant pain while not understanding what was actually happening to her. Even though her brain disease removed her ability to walk and use her hands, she still wanted to get out of bed and talked longingly of returning home soon. In the last few weeks her loss of swallowing was clearly terminal. Eating became impossible and even with careful sipping, her occasional choking racked her with panicked pain. Much of my time (really hours) was spent holding a drink with a straw to her chapped lips, encouraging the smallest of sips. 

There were particular moments of desolation. One came most nights at the painful moment of my leaving. I would say a prayer, leaning close with a kiss. Often she pleaded for me to stay. I can still hear the cry: ' Please don't leave me! I would stay a little longer until visiting hours were over.  But in the morning I heard from patients in adjoining beds how in the night she was crying out for help and sometimes sobbing. Nobody would give her a drink. I am sure some nurses did help, but her loneliness and desperation was heartbreaking. 

Another grave day, Carol shared her grief openly. She told me how much she had been praying to God to help her. 'I'm praying, and praying. I'm in such a mess but He won't help me. Why won't he help me?'  I had told her several times how serious her illness was and, by prayer, had hoped to prepare her for dying.  But the dementia aspect of her neurological disease was unable to comprehend.  I reassured her of God's love and of his promise to hold her fast in the valley of shadow, but until towards the very end it seemed to be incomprehensible to her anguished mind. As I mentioned in some past posts I do believe she came to a place of deeper peace at the end of her journey. When she slipped to glory I saw she was serenely at rest. I rejoice her cruel suffering is over. How I wish she had never had to go through it, yet Christian believers are not guaranteed freedom from suffering, are they?  Carol's Easter faith - the hymns we shall sing at her thanksgiving - holds fast through desolation.