This site is dedicated to the memory of 7 people.
Bill and Ruby Cowley. Family friends, "auntie and uncle" to me and my brothers when we were young. More than anyone else, they nurtured my love for the outdoors, the countryside, walking and photography. Their strong, practical Christian faith was a fine example. Bill was already retired by the time we really got to know him, and he married Ruby after the loss of his first wife. Their energy was an inspiration. They grew fruit and vegetables in a garden they transformed from a near wilderness, Bill made many alterations to the house and the campervans they owned, Ruby made clothes and furnishings. They were only sorry that I and my brothers did not pick up very well on all the practical stuff, but they were not too hard on us for taking after our Dad.
Charles and Dorothy Hill. My grandparents on my father's side. A quiet, godly couple adored by their grandchildren. Gentle and gracious, but with strong faith and values they sought to uphold. When I was 16 they celebrated their golden wedding anniversary. At the close of the day they told the closest family the secret they were keeping - Nana had just been diagnosed with cancer. On my 17th birthday I was at her funeral service. Her testimony of peaceful, calm assurance spoke volumes to a teenager. Grandad managed well for a couple of years, although in pain with arthritis of the hip (just before hip replacements came in). One Sunday he took good part in the morning service and came to ours for lunch. We had a short walk, returned home, and he settled for a rest - and never woke up. Their love and influence lives on, and we will be reunited in heaven.
Geoffrey Hill, Johnny Hill, Kate Hill. Uncle, cousins. Geoffrey, my Dad's youngest brother, sadly committed suicide when I was a teenager. The shock to the family was intense - we always thought of him as full of fun, although we did not see him often. Dad's other brother Don had three children. Although Don and his family lived in London, they had a cottage in Settle, Yorkshire, and we would often see them when they came north for a break. They loved the Yorkshire Dales. Johnny, the youngest of the family, took his own life when he was only about 21. It is still tragic to think about after many years now. Kate was a gifted graduate from Oxford, just a few months older than me. She took time and care to write a moving book about suicide in young people. Soon after it was published she died suddenly at the age of 29 from a rare condition that strikes pretty much out of the blue. We remember them with affection and identifying with the reality of the pain, struggles and difficulties that are faced in life.
The dedication is made because in various ways they are the inspiration for what I hope to achieve through this site.
