Tag: Loved ones

What would you save?

The painting Lucien Smith’s mother Margaret created in 1952 when she was 22 and called ‘Quirky Birds’. “It’s my ‘run back into a burning building’ item,” says Lucien. What would you save from a burning building?

Following my column about the reunion I had with my dad’s Jaguar, it prompted me to ponder how it is that physical things can mean so much to us.

Reader Lucien Smith got in touch because he has similar feelings about a painting created by his late mother Margaret. I had wondered if anyone still owned an object to which they had an unusually strong attachment.

“Yes I do. This painting by my mum, which she created in 1952 when she was 22. ‘Quirky Birds’ she called it and her teacher at college used a technique where they drew shapes on the canvas, then found the picture within. It’s my ‘run back into a burning building’ item.”

It is a wonderful memento of Lucien’s mother, who died in 2024. Its value to others may be negligible, but to Lucien it is priceless.

Former teacher Lynette Atkinson also got in touch after reading my Jaguar column and said: “What a fabulous story. No wonder it made you emotional. I have kept many items that were made by children I taught and they are treasures to me. A pine cone, a Christmas angel, a trinket box, a bracelet, a painted plate and many more.”

Gurli Smith, who lives in Denmark, contacted me about a different topic: “Reading your column this past Monday (A cheep of faith) made me think of something that happened a few years ago.

“I was sitting in my favourite armchair reading when I heard a loud bang. Something had hit the windowpane and left a big mark on it. I ran outside and saw a young kestrel lying on the ground. I thought it was dead and called my brother.

“By the time he arrived, the kestrel was able to hop around a bit (it had just passed out from the ‘encounter’ with the window!). However, we were afraid that it had broken a wing, so my brother placed it in a safe spot, and a few hours later it was ready to fly again.”

Gurli recalled a second memory prompted by reading my piece about tuberculosis a few weeks back. Her mother had told her this story many years ago.

“In the 1940s Mum trained as a nurse at a small hospital. It was before penicillin and if patients came to the hospital with pneumonia, it meant death for them.

“The specific story was about a young woman (a wife and mother) with pneumonia, and doctors and nurses were sure that she would die. But at a hospital in Aarhus they had penicillin which was driven by ambulance up to my mum’s hospital, and the life of the young woman was saved.

“My mum had tears in her eyes when she told the story and said that the use of penicillin was the greatest thing she had experienced as a nurse.”

We can’t imagine life without antibiotics today, and I have no doubt that they saved the life of my son when he had life-threatening sepsis at the age of three.

It makes me wonder what of life’s inventions that have appeared in your lifetime could you not live without today? Of course there are the obvious things, like the Internet, mobile phones, tablets and the like, but is there anything else you use on a daily basis that you didn’t realise you needed until it was invented?

I have a few personal treasures that will mean nothing to anyone else, but the absolute world to me. I will never forget the moment when I was in my dad’s study not long after he had died. It was the place I would go to feel close to him and on his desk was an A4 diary in which he used to plan out his time for the weeks and months ahead.

I flicked through a few pages and there, written in his distinctive hand, were the words ‘Out for dinner for Sarah’s birthday.’ My heart broke all over again when it dawned on me that he had looked forward to the occasion with no idea he would no longer be alive to enjoy it. Of course, I will never be able to throw that diary away now.

So what is your ‘run back into a burning back into a burning building’ item?

Do you have opinions, memories or ideas to share with me? Get in touch with me using the ‘Contact’ button on the top right.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 31st and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 29th July 2026

All you have to do is tri

I hi-fived my loved ones who were waiting by the finish line. Their support got me to the end.

 

Seeing my loved ones with home-made signs cheering me from the sidelines kept me going

 

Do you remember that way back in January I announced that in a moment of madness, I had applied to take part in a triathlon? I wrote: “For those not familiar with this ridiculous athletic challenge, a triathlon is three sporting disciplines performed back-to-back in this order: Swim, cycle, run. There are various distances and mine is a 400-metre swim, followed by a 20-kilometre bike ride and a five-kilometre run.” I’d had this latent desire to do a triathlon for many years which I can’t really explain, and neither can I explain why I waited until I was old and creaky to actually get round to giving it a go.

I can now reveal that I have done it! It was held at York Sport Village with around 400 competitors from all over the country. I completed it in under two hours without sinking, falling off my bike or tripping over. My legs and knees are still reminding me of it every minute of every day but I have to admit, the sense of achievement feels pretty damn good. This was my first attempt at doing anything like this, so I took it nice and steady, my goal being to preserve energy for the final run to ensure I actually made it to the end without collapsing in exhaustion.

I was not tempted to chase other people who sailed by me in the pool, whizzed past on fancy racing bikes, or glided effortlessly by on the run. The competitor in me resisted the urge to try and go a bit faster or to push harder, because the fear of failing after I had told so many people I was going to do it was greater than the fear of being overtaken by speedier participants.

As for the training that I had pledged to do at the start of the year, well, it was patchy at best, and I would not recommend that anyone follow my example when preparing for an athletic endeavour. I bought my bike three weeks before the race from a second-hand shop for £85 and I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I have been in the pool since the start of the year. As for running, I did a few long walks and threw in a bit of running now and then. I’m not sure the Brownlee brothers would be impressed with my preparation.

That’s not to say I didn’t do any physical activity. I play racquet sports regularly, and relied on the fitness I gain from that to see me through. One thing that helped was the fact that I managed to shed a few pounds (to get into that bridesmaid’s dress for the July wedding that I mentioned in my January column). It meant there was a bit less of me to drag around the course.

I was very nervous before the event though, nervous of the unfamiliarity of it all, of being surrounded by people who had done proper training and preparation, people looking like they knew what they were in for, people who seemed ready and confident. But it was a lovely and supportive atmosphere, and as I trotted around the route, those who overtook me offered words of encouragement to keep going.

The best thing was having my friends and family on the sidelines. On every lap, I could see my little posse of loved ones holding huge signs with my name on that I could easily spot. Although they were all cheering, the voice I could hear most was my friend Hayley (the bride from said wedding) shouting words of encouragement. I can’t tell you how much I looked forward to seeing and hearing them on every lap, knowing that every time I spotted them I was another step closer to the finish.

What I didn’t expect was the surge of emotion on nearing the end. My friend Stefan (who has done six of these so far!) had completed the event earlier in the day and we were both taking part in memory of our mutual friend Andy Wilkinson who passed away from pancreatic cancer a few years ago. He had been a proper triathlete, and I hope he’d be proud that I kept going and made it over the finish line.

This column appeared in the Darlington & Stockton Times on Friday 5th Sept and the Ryedale Gazette and Herald on Wednesday 3rd Sept 2025