Alistair & Dad

Swanage, Dorset

Could you tell me about the original photograph?

I'm Alistair, and my dad was James. The original picture was from the beach at Swanage in Dorset. I'm not sure how old I was there, but it was a family holiday, we often went down to Swanage because it was the closest and nicest beach. We loved to go down there and find a pitch for the day, mum and dad would soak up the sun and me and Tim, my brother, would build sandcastles and splash around, and repeat until we had to go home. Looking back at the picture, I was obviously testing out the water and dad's there in his sun hat, short shorts and holding my hand, keeping an eye on me really. That was summer holidays for us, we didn't go abroad, just kept it local, and I've got a lot of fond memories from that beach with the family. 

It's such a lovely shot, and I'm sure for a lot of people it's very reminiscent of family holidays from around the British coast. It's lovely to have been back today and consider what that place means to you, the memories that it evokes. Do you remember much about the day it was taken?

No, I can't really remember much at all, if anything really. I can remember feelings of that beach, walking down there today, walking the same path as we would have done back then you get those additional memories coming back like the smell of suncream, of fish&chips and hot sand underfoot. I can imagine it was just a hot day and all those things would have been present. We're both smiling and probably having a great time! I don't remember it specifically, but we would have had many days just the same as that.

Does it feel like quite a special place?

Definitely, we went a lot as kids and I've got a lot of affection for it because our holidays, our family happy time was spent down there. It was a chance for us all to relax, to enjoy the sunshine and each other. It's very special just because it's where we were as a family, together, and I guess it's that place I can go to and have all those associated memories of being with my family in a fun space, nice weather and others around. There's a lot of happiness there. 

“He was a very loving father, he provided for his, looked after us. He taught me a lot of principles about always doing the best, always trying to be the nicest person and to make sure that others were looked after and cared for. When you look back you realise you've been prepared by your parents to live your life.”

Is it somewhere you've been back to a lot?

Yeah, over the years I've been back a few times. When I stopped going on family holidays with my parents, there was a bit of a gap when I didn't visit, then I started going back for the odd day trip with friends and family, just for a few hours, but it wasn't the same as being there for a whole week, getting up in the morning, going down with your suncream and buckets! It still had all those familiar memories, and even if it was just passing through on a drive and stopping for an ice cream, it still felt really familiar and homely. I've always enjoyed the view, no matter what the weather.

Yeah, I mean today the weather really wasn't on our side, so it was hard to evoke that sense of it being an idyllic summer holiday location, but you get that sense in the bay, with the cliffs on one side, round to the bay and boats in the marina. You can imagine it packed on a summers day and imagine how special a time you'd have.

It's a seaside town, but when you're small it feels like an enclosed world, where you've got the bay and you can see the edges of your world, and this is your kingdom for a week. You can go to the beach this way or the town that way and you know that you're not going any further than that and this is your space. Going back there is like re-entering that world which you build. It's just a tiny part of our island, but it's your little part. The fact that you can stand in the middle of the bay and see both ends and know what's down at each part, there's something about that familiarity which will never change, I'll always know my way around and where we were when we took that picture.

“Even when he had dementia he was very polite and helpful to strangers. It was a challenge for me to see him as my dad because he didn't really know who I was, but he still offered to help when I mentioned to him about moving flat, he'd say "well let me know if you need a hand". I think that's just his character through and through and I always just try and emulate that.”

Do you think there's something about Swanage in particular that's special, or is it more to do with the memories that you built there as a family?

I think it's a beautiful place, a lovely town, amazing views, but I think it's because I remember going there with my family and we'd always end up roughly in the same bit of the beach when we'd go year after year. I'd get my ice cream from the same shop each year and we'd go to the same hotel for dinner, just repeating those things each year make it feel like it's yours, even though you're sharing it with so many other people on their holidays, but it just feels like it's our place too. It is beautiful, but it's nicer when you're with the people you love. 

So today we went back to restage the picture with your dad and to remember him. I wondered if you could tell me about him? 

James, my dad, he was a very calm relaxed man. He was 77 when he passed away earlier this year in a care home in Winchester. He had been there because he had dementia. He spent his last few years in the care home because mum was finding it hard to look after him, which most dementia families will find there comes a point. At the end, dad contracted Covid. Before that, he was otherwise healthy for a man of his age, but once he caught Covid he deteriorated very quickly and we lost him very soon afterwards. 

As a man, growing up, he was a very loving father, he provided for his, looked after us. He taught me a lot of principles about always doing the best, always trying to be the nicest person and to make sure that others were looked after and cared for. He taught me how to build things, dig in the garden, little things like that which at the time I probably didn't appreciate, but when you look back you realise what skills you do pick up just by observing or him telling you to do something. You realise you've been prepared by your parents to live your life. He never got angry with me, just was very calm and understanding. He liked to joke, he liked his food, he was just a very relaxing presence really. 

Always very helpful and even when he had dementia he was very polite and helpful to strangers, because he didn't really recognise me in the past few years. It was a challenge for me to see him as my dad because he didn't call me by my name, he didn't really know who I was, but he still offered to help when I mentioned to him about moving flat or jobs to do. He'd say "well let me know if you need a hand", and he was in his seventies and probably couldn't lift a box, but he was still happy to offer, and I could have been a complete stranger to him, but he still wanted to help. So I think that's just his character through and through and I always just try and emulate that.

“When we got the dementia diagnosis, several years ago, we had noticed over time that he was getting more forgetful. I lost him as a dad over those years, I still loved him as my dad, but I knew I wasn't necessarily going to get that reciprocated, which was tough. Then when the Covid thing came along, it was like losing him for a second time, but this time, obviously, for the last time. It was difficult because I had kind of processed losing him in a mental sense, and now I was losing him in a physical sense.”

That's a lovely picture of who your dad was, and it says a lot about his nature that even in those years when you might have felt like you were losing him that he was still willing to offer that support.

When we got the dementia diagnosis, several years ago, we had noticed over time that he was getting more forgetful. Particularly when I'd phone my parents on a Sunday for a catch up he would get more and more forgetful and I'd notice it more acutely. He wouldn't use my name, he was losing his hearing, his vision wasn't great and I lost him as a dad over those years, but I still loved him as my dad, but I knew I wasn't necessarily going to get that reciprocated, which was tough, but I dealt with it and decided that I wanted to hopefully be a nice stranger, which is maybe how he perceived me, wondering who this guy was coming up and seeing him and giving him a hug every time. I hoped that it might jog a memory or nudge something into reminding him who I was, but it was tough. I managed to process it, but then when the Covid thing came along, it was like losing him for a second time, but this time, obviously, for the last time. It was difficult because I had kind of processed losing him in a mental sense, and now I was losing him in a physical sense. 

“Before we entered lockdown, I went to see him and I said to the staff that I'd like to come up if I could, volunteer in the garden if possible, even if he wasn't aware of me being there, I could just help out and spend some time with him and do something productive, but then we went into lockdown and that was the last time I saw him when he was awake and alert.” 

It's hard to hear that, let alone experience it, to consider that you had to accept all those losses along the way. I think there is a notion of grieving for somebody before they've actually passed away, which perhaps means it's not so much of a shock? 

Yeah, I think I get what you're saying, but we thought he would live for a longer time than he did, and we were prepared to accept that he wasn't going to be the same mentally, but he would still physically be present and we would still love him regardless of how he felt about us, but we weren't ready for such a quick deterioration. Before we entered lockdown, I went to see him and I said to the staff that I'd like to come up if I could, volunteer in the garden if possible, even if he wasn't aware of me being there, I could just help out and spend some time with him and do something productive, but then we went into lockdown and that was the last time I saw him when he was awake and alert. 

I did get to see him before he passed away and it was just a completely different experience because I had to wear all the PPE, I was only allowed 15 minutes each day I went in there, and I went in twice. It was horrible having this countdown clock, where you have this time limit on how long you have left with someone and knowing that you have a time limit is horrible. Whereas in the past, I'd just always assumed he'd be there for years to come and you don't think about it ever being the last time, whereas, I went there, got dressed up and they said you've got 15 minutes. I just set it on my watch and it's just counting down. I was thinking, I've got 30 seconds left with my dad, 20 seconds left, 10 seconds left, what do I do, what do I say, and I just panicked. 

When I came back the next day, I just said I wanted to go back one more time and they said it was ok. I tried to think about all the things I could fit into 15 minutes to say to him, to get it off my chest. It was still painful, but I felt like I used the time more effectively if that makes sense, but still having a countdown clock just...

That's just brutal.

Yeah, it really is. I guess when you go to visit family members you think you'll see them next year or next month, Christmas or whatever, and we probably all have a countdown clock of sorts but we just don't see it. We all have to pass on at some point, but it's a mystery how long we've got, but when someone says you've got 15 minutes left with your dad, you just think, how do I use that time, do you sit there in silence, do you talk to him? It was very tough in the room, he was a bit agitated, kind of sleeping and obviously with Covid it makes it very hard to breath. They said he might look like he's in distress but they were doing what they could. I just wanted to rip all the stuff off and give him a kiss on the head, but I had to think about myself. I'm glad I did it, and I think if I hadn't have done it I would have felt a lot worse. 

“I did get to see him before he passed away and it was just a completely different experience because I had to wear all the PPE, I was only allowed 15 minutes each day I went in there. It was horrible having this countdown clock, where you have this time limit on how long you have left with someone. I just set it on my watch and it's just counting down. I was thinking, I've got 30 seconds left with my dad, 20 seconds left, 10 seconds left, what do I do, what do I say, and I just panicked.”

The chance to say some of those things, and saying what you can, whatever it is that comes to mind in that moment, is better than not having had the chance at all. That's a small positive to take away, because it's so quick, but in such an unprecedented scenario that no-one could have predicted just a few months ago, but for all the medical professionals who have to implement a procedure, to give you 15 minutes, it's not arbitrary at all, it's extremely significant for you, but I suppose someone's had to decide that this is the amount of time that we're allowing each person at a time with PPE etc. Where do you pluck that number from in order to decide what's safe or not?! 

It's very black and white to say, 16 minutes is too much, and 17 minutes, absolutely not, but 15 minutes is ok. It's always been difficult when I've gone to visit dad, because either he's very tired, asleep or having food, and I don't want to overstay my welcome, but I want to make the most of the time I see him. It made me reflect on how many times I've seen or called my parents and thought that maybe I'm quite busy and I haven't really got time for this, but I'll see them next week. I've gone away thinking that it's ok that I didn't see them for very long today because I'll see them in the future, and it's given me a real appreciation for just taking a second to appreciate that when you're with family or a friend, visiting them in whatever circumstance that you don't know necessarily when you might see them again and that's why you have to make the most of the time you have with them. It's not about thinking about it being the last time you ever see them, but it's about thinking to enjoy every moment today that I am seeing you because it might be longer than I'd hoped until we see each other. It's made me really change how I approach seeing my friends now. I'm trying to act on it in a positive way, rather than just thinking about why I feel that way because of dad. It's more about doing something and making the most of it. 

Yeah, I can totally appreciate that having lost people that you suddenly approach spending time with people in a more mindful sense. Whether it's with people or a special moment or place, that you try and shut out some of the stuff out that is filling your mind or awakening your senses and just appreciate the scenario that you're in. That moment won't ever happen again, we've been back to recreate a photo today and it won't feel anything like the original, a totally different moment, and it evokes memories. Being able to take a step back (or maybe forwards) into a moment, not in an out of body sort of way, but to appreciate that this is what life is about, being here with these people. It's harder to do than you think!

Yeah, totally. They say live in the moment, and I totally agree. It's hard to do that if you're not proactive about it. I've found that when you're out, at the beach or with friends at dinner, often for me its just taking a picture, a candid shot or what I'm doing, where I am. I doesn't have to be a good picture, but having it, particularly an instant picture means you've got something physical which you can attach those memories and thoughts to. Then also just nudging yourself, and as you say, stop for a minute and let all your senses absorb everything that's going on. What does this food smell like, what can I hear, am I too hot or too cold, who's laughing, who's talking, how do I feel? Let everything wash over you and attach it to what you see, then the next time you see that image or photo you can relive all of those different senses. With the shot of me and dad you can almost feel the sand under your toes, you've probably got sticky hands from suncream and the smell of vinegar and salt wafting across from someone's fish&chips and it's just, yeah, that's the beach, that was fun. 

“We all have to pass on at some point, but it's a mystery how long we've got, but when someone says you've got 15 minutes left with your dad, you just think, how do I use that time, do you sit there in silence, do you talk to him? I just wanted to rip all the stuff off and give him a kiss on the head, but I had to think about myself.”

It's almost to do with removing yourself in a way from the hubbub of a moment. We talked earlier about your affection for being in the water, which is reminiscent of how you feel you experience swimming and it offering you space for reflection. 

I got into swimming a couple of years ago and I found it very therapeutic for me because in the day time around people, you have a lot of thoughts coming into your head, you see, hear and feel a lot of stuff, receive a lot of information in day to day life. When you get in the pool, I found that once I had my goggles on, my earplugs in, my nose clip, my cap on, I would have to block a lot of that stuff out in order to swim properly. Then I went one stage further and at the end of my session, go to the deep end of the pool, swim down there and let some air out so I wouldn't float up and just sit and bob under water. You can't hear anything, you can't smell anything or taste anything. All you can do is see, but if you close your eyes, you're just floating in your own little world of darkness and silence. The only thing you've got is your thoughts, and I would use that to reflect on particular thought, if there was something going round my brain, I would just shut out all those other senses and noise and distraction and just float there thinking about this problem I might have and just work it out. It became a safe space for me, if I'd had a stressful day I'd go to the pool, I'd do my session and swim down to process my thoughts. I found it really helpful to have that space or world, like with the beach, this kingdom, or underwater kingdom, it's just me, this is my little world and this is where I come to do my thinking. Then when you get up and out of the water, you take everything off again, you're attacked by all those senses again, but you've had that time to process that one thought or problem and you can just leave it there in the deep end of the pool. You can revisit it if you want, but that's what the water means to me. 

I guess that's why I like what we've done today with the picture, I get to go in the sea, and the sea brings back so many memories from different things, family trips, swimming or training in the pool. The water, for me, is just a very calm entity, even on the choppiest day or if it's raining like it was today, it's somewhere you can go and be yourself.

It feels to me like a very emotionally mature way of self care. There's this notion that we don't get bored anymore, there's always something to engage us, our phone and apps, their main priority is to get our attention, they want it for as long as they can have it. But to be able to cultivate a space in which you can let thoughts pass through your mind and not really be bored, but not filling your mind with other things and having your senses attacked is a really smart and healthy thing to do.

I've certainly read that cold water swimming is used for patients with depression because it's a shock to your system, all you can focus on is cold water shock. I thoroughly recommend doing a New Years Day dip in the sea if you've got somewhere nearby. I've done it a few times and when you're in there, all you can think about is how cold it is. When you're swimming, often what you're thinking about is your breaths, your strokes and you can't think about anything else. You don't have a phone in front of you, no distractions, just your body, your movement and you have to focus on timing it all right to get you from A to B. At the same time, you're just looking down, and if you're in a pool or in the sea, you're looking down at the bottom and it's just another world that you get to observe. If you stop in either of those scenarios, particularly in the sea, you can see this underwater world moving around at it's own little pace, the crabs and fish milling around. You can find that you're watching them and then you're floating there, just observing and there's nothing else going on in your world, just what these guys are doing. It's all part of the fun of being in the sea and having no distractions. 

I want to just go back a bit and ask about your dad and how he bought you up. You talked about practical things, but I wondered there are ways in which he's influenced your character, your view on the world, whether that's directly or from observing how he was as a person?

He's always just wanted to treat others how I'd want to be treated and one example is driving a car. He said you'd want to drive a passenger in a way for them not to realise you've driven them from A to B. So don't drive badly, make it a smooth journey, something they'll appreciate and I've always tried to apply that elsewhere,  you don't want to antagonise people or treat them badly because that's just wrong. That was his principle, why would you want to be rude to someone, why would you want to be impolite and instead, how can you be helpful. It's just simple things like that. He was just nice, always polite and I never saw him be anything other than that, so why would I pick up anything else than just being nice and polite. He was always trying to make jokes when he met people.

He knew a lot about history and if you gave him your ear, he would tell you historical facts about where you were, particularly with Swanage, he would read up about the local area and tell us about it. We'd be sat there at dinner and he'd drop in some facts about Swanage Bay or Corfe Castle or the Jurassic Coast. At the time I didn't really appreciate it, but he was obviously reading and learning and then imparting that knowledge onto me. I was learning form him about the world I lived in and it was all just so calmly presented and he didn't force it on me, but I'm glad that he did do that. I think he wanted to talk to me through teaching. It's just those little things where he set the best example and lived that example and I try to emulate it really. 

“It made me reflect on how many times I've seen or called my parents and thought that maybe I'm quite busy and I haven't really got time for this, but I'll see them next week. I've gone away thinking that it's ok that I didn't see them for very long today because I'll see them in the future. It's given me a real appreciation for just taking a second to appreciate that when you're with family or a friend, visiting them in whatever circumstance that you don't know necessarily when you might see them again and that's why you have to make the most of the time you have with them.”

I hope it's not too much for me to say, but you have that ease and lightness as a person, that sense of enjoyment, having a joke, not taking things overly seriously, but wanting to learn and share knowledge, as well as enjoy the moment, but all in that sense of calmness and gentleness which from what you've described you've inherited from your dad. You don't have to be the same person, you can be you, but I can see how his nature has passed on to you.

Yeah, I think I've taken all of his great qualities really. Just trying to learn and be able to impart wisdom to others, to be a good and supportive friend and someone you can rely on. I could always rely on my dad, whether it was dropping me off after school, giving me a fiver for sweets, which I wish I'd paid him back for, but he was always happy to help and would encourage me to learn and just be a nice guy really, it's a simple as that. If you're nice to people, they'll be nice to you, we'll all get along and the world will be a better place. 

I know it's early days, but I wondered whether you'd thought about any ways you wanted to pay tribute to your dad or honour him. Whether that's something you've been able to do so far or something in the future?

We had the funeral and it was a socially distanced funeral, which was different to funerals that I'd been to in the past, but appropriate for the circumstances. That, firstly, was a wonderful tribute to him because mum and I got to say how we felt, we had friends and family there who knew him really well and we had people watching from different countries, so that was a wonderful way to say goodbye to him. 

Secondly, we were hoping to add a plaque to a bench that we already have at South Wonston park, near where he lived. The bench is there for my brother, who passed away several years ago, and the plan was to add something to reference dad to the bench so that it could be for Tim and Dad. That's all in process at the moment. We'll also be getting a stone at the cemetery, again to go alongside Tim and to have space for them to be together.

Outside of that I've been looking back at the photos I've got and I'm hoping to make a collage to have in my flat, something I can look at with all those happy memories, because a lot of time nowadays, people take photos on their phone, it might go on instagram or facebook but unless you print it off and have it physically in your hand it doesn't have that same connection to those memories necessarily, and I want to have something I can hold and look at and feel and just manipulate to give me that processing if I need it, so I'll be looking to that as and when I can. 

“It’s absolutely ok to cry and be a blubbering mess sometimes. If you try and stop it, you’ll feel a lot worse. I know that particularly for men there’s this societal pressure to be a strong support and a rock for people, but for your own sake, for men and women, it’s important to let your body do what it needs to do. You want to cry because your brain is telling you that you need to process this, to not fight it but to let it happen, then you’ll feel that pressure is unloaded.”

That's lovely. Those physical places are important and it's good to have places to go, especially if they hold memories from the past but also so it can feel like you're visiting them. Hopefully those Swanage and those other spots are places you can keep returning to and give your time to Dad and Tim.

When I have been back there, it's never been with the specific intention of remembering him, but it happens naturally. I'll go there because it's a lovely place on a sunny day, but at some point it just creeps up on you and suddenly it washes over you and you're remembering all of this stuff that you hadn't anticipated. It might be really emotional at the time, and it might be a bit sudden and shocking but I think it's a good thing to let that happen and just be in that moment and absorb it, experience it, let it happen and it will pass and then you're back into your day, but you've had that opportunity just to relive some of those feelings and process it a bit, and I think that's something that people should feel they can do. It’s absolutely ok to cry and be a blubbering mess sometimes. If you try and stop it, you’ll feel a lot worse. I know that particularly for men there’s this societal pressure to be a strong support and a rock for people, but for your own sake, for men and women, it’s important to let your body do what it needs to do. You want to cry because your brain is telling you that you need to process this, to not fight it but to let it happen, then you’ll feel that pressure is unloaded. It might be uncomfortable, but you can do it in front of people and if they love you they’ll support you and let it happen. I’ve done that, and at the time it feels a bit horrible, but afterwards it feels cathartic, and it’ll happen again and again, and that’s fine, it’s not a problem!