Dad was born into a clergy family and followed the same calling. He was brought up in a very frugal way, partly because the family was living on a clergy stipend and partly due to post war rationing. At school he was good at lots of things but did not especially excel at anything. If he ever got a prize, it was for being an ‘all round good chap’. He loved cricket and when he got engaged to Christina he enjoyed the jokes about having bowled a maiden over. After National service and theological studies, in 1962 he was ordained deacon at Ripon Cathedral, married Christina that same year and in 1963 was ordained there. They had three children, me (Patrick), Edward and Frances. Dad had a very loud and distinctive voice. I remember realising, as a child, that I could never get lost at village fetes or cricket club fun days. If I listened carefully, I would always be able to hear Dad talking, and therefore be able to find him.
A crisis of faith
In the early 70s he suffered a serious crisis of faith, which, as a vicar, was particularly painful for him. Then in 1972 he went with Christina on a Focolare Ecumenical trip to Rome. This encounter with Focolare spirituality became very important for him. He understood that he might not be able to solve the theological and philosophical problems but by living the life of love daily in a practical way he found the light and support he needed to move forward. He took living the Gospel and sharing his every day experiences of putting the Word of Life into practice very seriously. This helped him and others in journeying closer to Jesus. From 1985 until his retirement in Ripon in 2002 he was Honorary Canon of Bradford Cathedral, and from 1985-1994 was Ecumenical Officer for the Diocese of Bradford. During retirement he continued to give of himself in many areas, including voluntary Chaplain to Ripon Police and singing in the cathedral choir.
Forgive my forgets
As dementia worsened in the last years of his life, he was still able and keen to share his experience of learning to ‘Forgive his forgets’[1]. It was vitally important for him, allowing him to live with great peace in the present moment, even if he could not remember what had just happened, or what was going to happen next. Of course, it depended crucially on Christina also forgiving his forgets. Throughout their marriage Dad had always been strongly supported by her, but that support moved to a new level as his dementia increased.
Dementia revealed the great value of some behaviours he had trained himself in over many years, greeting people even if he couldn’t remember who they were and listening attentively even if he couldn’t remember what they had just told him. He talked about his dementia very freely.
On 1st February 2024, Dad, Christina and I attended the funeral of Fr Jonathan Cotton (see April New City) at Ampleforth Abbey. It was a wonderful day for Dad who spoke to many of his friends. The next morning, he died in an extraordinary way. The three of us were walking into Ripon Cathedral for the Candlemass service. Dad stopped and then started to collapse. I caught him. A moment later the gospel was read, including ‘Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace’ (Luke 2: 29). He died close to where his coffin was soon to lie for his funeral, and a few yards from where he had been ordained deacon in 1962 and priest in1963. In his homily, the Dean at Dad’s funeral said that ‘Simon had provided a master class in how to die in a holy way, and “with flair!” It was a way that spoke of faithfulness and confidence in God. Simon simply overflowed with faith and positivity – and that never left him.’
[1] See New City magazine, October 2021 edition, page 7.
Read the full article here>>>[New City magazine May 2024, p.8-9.]
Photos: ©courtesy of Patrick Gerard
