Two years of
 Looking back, it was inevitable we would get more involved than originally intended because Rachel House is that kind of place. The staff, children and families are those kind of people. Once you’ve been there, met them or read about them, you realise you want to help, you want to do more.
Interviewing the children and families of Rachel House has never been easy for the writers here — hugely rewarding, but always difficult. You are at once reminded of your own good fortune and your mortality. You can’t help but wonder if you could possibly cope in the same circumstances.
Yet of the dozen families I’ve met and interviewed not one has sought an ounce of sympathy. They don’t see themselves as brave or tragic, they just get on and make the best of things.
Shortest straw
I’ve met some of the nicest, friendliest people you could wish to know and they are proof that fate is neither fussy nor fair. They’ve been given the shortest of straws and done nothing to deserve it.
But, instead of moaning about their lot, they have invited us into their lives and bared their souls about their private troubles. For some it has been therapeutic and an undoubted help to talk about it, but for most it is extremely difficult and they do so only in the hope that it will jag people’s consciences and raise money for the campaign.
They have benefited greatly from Rachel House and want others to be able to do the same. That’s the kind of people they are.
Personally, I remember the determination of Charlene Gay and Michael Tobin, two young adults who had no intention of letting their physical problems get in their way.
I think back to Paul Creaney, who laughed and giggled from the moment I went into his house till the moment I left.
Maybe it was me.
I’m sure you remember Pauline Galloway, the mum of little Aimee who was told eight times that her daughter just had days to live. Pauline has had to endure that agony as a way of life and, amazingly, Aimee continues to fight.
Then there was Gemma O’Byrne who threw toys at Sharleen Spiteri and Jack McConnell, with a huge grin on her face.
No moaning
There was Mykel and Kristopher, Gerard, Darren, Greg and Sean, boys who don’t have their troubles to seek but who have no time for moaning.
I also had the pleasure of meeting little Robyn Watterson and her mum and dad. Robyn is the face of the campaign to build the new hospice and the day she crosses that threshold will be a special one for so many people. Like the parents of any child who makes use of Rachel House, Gilbert and Sylvia can’t be certain Robyn will see the opening, but they are confident she will and they’ll settle for that.
That’s something else that’s been so common to so many of them. Their expectations are their own and they learn not to look too far ahead or dream for too much. All we can do is help them make as much of it as they can while they can.
Work at Robin House on the banks of Loch Lomond is progressing well and in less than a year’s time the doors should finally open. Till then there is much still to be done and money to be raised.
We are not letting up in our determination to raise as much as we can to build and run the hospice and we know you won’t either. We’ve been in this together for two years and we’ll see it through until the end.
Happy birthday to us all.
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hospice@sundaypost.com
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