The Gift of Time: Living with my Husband and Diffuse Lewy Body disease
by Rev'd Canon Pat Prestney (Author), Ivan Sage (Author)
5.0 5.0 out of 5 stars (7)
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Keith Prestney was diagnosed with Diffuse Lewy Body Disease – an
aggressive form of dementia – in 1999. It was not expected that he would
live for more than two or three more years.
However, after a consultant neurologist offered to try out a combination of
medication, Keith,who had been unable to communicate with his wife and
family for some time, became lucid almost overnight. In fact, he was almost
back to normal!
Keith was able to enjoy continental holidays, his garden and, amazingly, he
was able to give an insight into what life had been like in his hitherto silent,
parallel world.
The Gift Of Time describes the highs and lows of family life as everyone pulled
together to ensure Keith’s well-being was as good as could possibly be achieved
until this deadly disease took its toll – 11 years after the original diagnosis.
All profits made from the sale of this book will be donated to Diffuse Lewy Body Disease research
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Print length
151 pages
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From other countries
Nita Cuff
5.0 out of 5 stars A must read for anybody with a friend or relative who has Parkinson's.
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 1 December 2018
Format: KindleVerified Purchase
This is a very well written book about Parkinson's disease and how it develops as time goes by. Very sad but also very informative. A must read for anyone struggling with a friend or relative with this awful disease. I wish this was available as a REAL book, I do not like reading from tablets, computers or any other screens, it makes my eyes tired.
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Miller #1
5.0 out of 5 stars Thank you
Reviewed in the United States on 20 January 2020
Format: KindleVerified Purchase
I can't thank you enough for sharing your life in these pages. My husband has Lewy Body dementia and just hearing your story helps me make it through the day.
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Norma Davis
1 review
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March 1, 2015
Thank you
While the book sometimes appeared disjointed, overall it presented a compassionate description of one of the most challenging journeys many of us will face. So much sadness. Learning how to appreciate the dwindling good times.
Thank you for the encouragement you offered by sharing your journey with us.
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The Gift of Time
Living with my Husband and Diffuse Lewy Body Disease
By the Revd Canon Pat Prestney
with Ivan Sage
Mercy holds the veil that hides tomorrow
'Does Keith see things?' the consultant enquired. 'Does he have hallucinations?'
'Yes,' I replied.
'Does he still dress himself?'
'Yes.'
'Can he go to the loo by himself?'
'Yes.'
and then he asked: 'Has he tried to kill you yet?'
Dedicated to the memory of Keith Prestney, a gentle man, and to all who are living with Diffuse Lewy Body Disease, and to those who care for them.
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without written permission.
First published independently in 2013 by the Revd Canon Pat Prestney, 2 Cedar Way, Great Bentley, Colchester, Essex: 01206 255319
Printed by Alphaprint (Colchester) Ltd, Essex
All profits made from the sale of this book will be donated to Diffuse Lewy Bodies Disease research
- INTRODUCTION P6
- LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT P10
- DIRE STRAIGHTS P19
- A SHOCKING DIAGNOSIS P31
- A GATHERING STORM P43
- A MIRACLE-AND SCARY CUSHIONS! P56
- THE BUBBLE BURSTS P84
- A LONELY PLACE P93
- A POSSIBLE CAUSE? P102
- KEITH - IN HIS OWN WORDS P108
- HELP IS OUT THERE P121
- THE IMPORTANCE OF FAMILY P139
- DEEPEST LOVE P147
- A SCARE AND MAGICAL MOMENTS P155
- A PEACEFUL FAREWELL P170
- 'GRANDPA'S GOODBYE PARTY' P176
- MOVING ON P180 USEFUL CONTACTS P185
- USEFUL INFORMATION P188
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS P189
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INTRODUCTION
By Ivan Sage
Keith Robert Prestney died just short of his 76thbirthday on 2 May, 2010. Prior to his death his wife Pat and I had begun writing this book to document his 11-year struggle for survival against overwhelming odds. His untimely passing, however, does not in any way diminish the story of the remarkable resilience he and his family displayed over so many years because the end was so inevitable. So, why do I describe Keith's death as 'untimely'? Simply because, according to so many consultants and doctors, Keith was widely expected to succumb to his illness several years earlier. By picking up this book you have just selected a remarkable and inspiring love story - but make no mistake, this is not a slushy Mills & Boon novel. No, this is a tale of
real life devotion and commitment in an imperfect world - an inspiring tale that demonstrates how love had no boundaries and no hurdle was too high to overcome. It also reveals the hard facts of life that can be encountered when life leads you down a particularly difficult and emotionally challenging path. This is the story of Pat and Keith Prestney. Prepare to be moved and inspired by this remarkable couple - a couple I have been both proud and privileged to know as friends. Their experiences will have you either smiling or close to tears as the rollercoaster of their lives over the past few traumatic years unravels from page to page. When I first met Keith no-one knew that he was on the cusp of a cruel, debilitating disease that would turn his and his family's lives upside down.
To my mind, Keith was not only a gentleman but a gentle man whose benevolent manner made him instantly endearing to anyone fortunate enough to meet him. His wife Pat, the rector of the small Essex village where we all lived, shared Keith's qualities and it's hard to imagine how a couple could have been more suited and devoted to each other.
Keith had been a hard working, fit and active man with a keen sense of fun for the first 64 years of his life. Then, in 1998, Pat noticed that his usual spark was missing. He began to slow down dramatically as both his mobility and mental health deteriorated. Confusion and mobility difficulties became more and more apparent before their lives were turned upside down with the diagnosis of Diffuse Lewy Body Disease. Keith, they were informed, would be unlikely to survive more than the next two to three years.
Like most people, the Prestneys had never heard of this awful, debilitating and degenerative disease which shares similar symptoms to Parkinson's Disease, but which progresses far more ruthlessly. Remarkably, given that so many people claim never to have heard of Diffuse Lewy Body Disease, it is one of most common forms of dementia. Sadly, there is no cure.
What makes this particular story stand out is an amazing 'window of opportunity' that occurred after Keith's condition had become so dire that he was barely able to communicate in any way or care for himself. Circumstances and an experimental cocktail of medication conspired to offer the Prestneys a period of time where Keith, almost overnight, emerged from his mysterious parallel world like a butterfly from a chrysalis, almost back to his former self. This 'small miracle of science' enabled Keith to describe the feelings and fears he had experienced while being unable to communicate with his family and to enjoy his family, his home and even holidays abroad.
This is truly the uplifting part of this incredible tale which we very much hope will give encouragement to anyone caring for someone who is unable to communicate as a result of their condition. Unfortunately, Keith's recovery was too good to last and, over time, his condition began to deteriorate once more. Yet the struggle to offer him a reasonable standard of life continued unabated. Eleven years on from his diagnosis, and despite several scares along the way, Keith was still sharing his home with his beloved wife. Despite the considerable difficulties he faced in life, he was still able to enjoy the company of his three sons, their wives and his grandchildren. This, according to most medical theories, just shouldn't have been possible but Pat is convinced Keith's life was prolonged and enhanced by the level of care she, their
family, medics and carers had been able to bestow upon him. Pat, in her former capacity as the village priest, certainly knows the value of life, but she also appreciates the importance attached to a decent quality of life not only for sufferers but for their carers too. Despite so much heartache along the way this is, nevertheless, an uplifting story of faith, love, hope and determination. This is not intended to be an authoritative account of the effects of Diffuse Lewy Body Disease. Far from it. This is a very personal account of how the disease affected
not only Keith, but his entire family; it's about how they came to terms with it; and how they and others coped with it (or not, at times).
This is their story. A story which begins back when Keith was a schoolboy and traces his life from there on. We discover the type of man he was, his aims, his work, his dreams-basically the man he was before this cruel disease changed his life irrevocably. Only by learning what Keith was like prior to his illness can one truly appreci-ate how vastly life changed for him and his family after his diagnosis.
What happened to Keith when he emerged from a position of not being able to communicate with others may well have been a one-off but that 'window of opportun-ity' when, seemingly against all the odds, he became lucid once more, offers a rare insight into a twilight world that few would ever expect to understand. Although this story of Keith's re-emergence to a fully conscious and mobile state is remarkable, the feelings, fears and thoughts he was able to express will, hopefully, not only enlighten but uplift those caring for loved ones who are totally unable to communicate with them.
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Looking after someone who seems to be locked in to a world of their own, not knowing what they are thinking, feeling, wanting or understanding, is a painful and heart-rending process but Pat and Keith's experiences will shed some light on the dark times so many people have to endure.
Perhaps this story will, to some degree, reassure carers of those who seem to be locked deeply in a world of their own that their loved ones can, most likely, hear and understand what is being said and done around them and that their efforts can be appreciated even if the person being cared for is not in a position to express it per-sonally. Sadly, there is no happy ending to this story but Keith's life was undeniably extended considerably and was made far more bearable by the dedicated efforts of a marvellous consultant and Keith's devoted family and carers so, in that sense, it is a story of what may be possible for others.
I hope this devoted family's story may inspire you as much as it has me.
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT
The consultant didn't pull any punches. He looked directly at me. 'How old is Keith?" he asked. 'He's 67, I replied. 'Well,' he said, 'he might make 70, but it'll probably be best if he doesn't.'
Almost nine years later, as I gazed across the lounge at my dear husband sitting quietly in his chair in our lounge I realised he was but a shadow of the man I met and fell in love with. It was so hard to believe that this frail gentleman who I shared my life with, the man I loved so deeply, had become so physically and mentally chal-lenged that he required the help of myself and carers to tend to his everyday needs. How I wished I could turn back the clock to the days when he was able to enjoy each day as it came. How I wished I could have done something to help him escape from the clutches of the cruel, killer disease that had been blighting his life since it was diagnosed in 1999. But then again, I thanked God I still had the man who had confounded the medics who believed he would be unlikely to survive more than two or three years.
It was the summer of 1967 and I was just 17 when I first met Keith. I was still at school and Keith often popped in to my father's transport café in the Essex village of Little Bentley for his lunch - but I reckon that was probably only because he fancied my friend! Keith would bring his strawberries to the café to be sold. He always looked rather scruffy and would appear in a battered old Mini. At first I only knew Keith as The Strawberry Man. My friend Jane and I used to wear short shorts, part of the Shell petroleum uniform, with a blue top and a little hat - and I think Keith really liked that! Jane and I had been working at the café over that summer and, as Keith appeared more and more often, we got to know him and he became a good friend who would often hang around for a chat with us.
At the time Keith and I were both going out with other people but, at the end of that strawberry season, Keith announced that he would like to take Jane and me out for dinner by way of a thank-you for selling his strawberries. Jane reckoned her mother wouldn't approve but I thought I'd really like to go, even though my dad wasn't so keen on the idea. I'm so glad I went. Keith turned up looking absolutely gorgeous in a red AC Ace sports car. Looking on, Jane must have been thinking she'd made a big mistake but it was too late. I hopped in to Keith's car and he drove us to the Red Lion pub in nearby Kirby where we had a wonderful time.
When I came home I told a friend, 'I'm going to marry that man!" I later ended my relationship with my boyfriend, Keith split with his girlfriend, and we became an item. My ex-boyfriend eventually went off to work in London. I never actually met Keith's girlfriend. I liked to think she wasn't very nice, though the opposite is prob-ably true but, having met each other, Keith and I just knew we wanted to be together. Keith was blessed with a great sense of humour and that was probably the main aspect of his character that attracted me to him. We'd spend so much time laughing at things together. Shortly afterwards Keith turned up to help set up my 18th birthday party at my parents' home which was adjacent to the café. That's when he first met most of my friends. Like me, they were considerably younger than Keith who was 33 years old at the time. To be honest, I'd had no idea he was so much older than me, I'd guessed he was probably in his twenties, but he'd won me over with his blue eyes and his lovely sense of humour. He was such a lovely person to talk to and we just clicked. I was instantly smitten. I knew Keith fancied me, but it still took him a full two years before he realised he wanted to marry me!
However, the path of true love rarely runs smoothly and, when I took up a nursing position in 1968 at Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridge, Keith and I nearly split up. Keith had to remain at Greshams, the fruit farm he owned and ran in the small village of Great Bromley, and he was also working at another farm he rented in nearby Weeley while I was working miles away in Cambridgeshire. Greshams was originally just an empty field. When Keith took it on he grew strawberries and roses and then he was granted planning permission to build a farm house.
At the time we met, Keith was having the foundations of his own house, a chalet bungalow based on an Ideal Home design, laid down at Greshams. Keith had started building Greshams in 1966. I used to joke that although he'd got the foundations down he'd need a wife to build the walls. Time was of the essence. Although Keith was doing a lot of the building work himself, it was necessary to get the roof in situ by a certain date in order to avoid the need to pay a considerable amount in stamp duty.
Sport was Keith's passion, he loved it. He played fly half at rugby but he was not at all stocky. He was never a heavy man, he was more wiry. When he played hockey
spectators often likened him to a little terrier - head down and onwards - and that was one of Keith's characteristics. He was a very good hockey player, a very good team player who was quite content to supply the passes for others to score whenever the opportunity arose. He captained Iceni, a Colchesterbased hockey team, and represented both Essex and Suffolk at the sport. He also enjoyed playing cricket each summer- at least until his work commitments curtailed his participation. Keith loved holidays, especially going abroad. A year after we started going out - I was 19 at the time-we went to Majorca, a holiday that wasn't exactly without inci-dent as I couldn't find my passport - Keith, it turned out, had it all the time! Life was so different back then. We had separate rooms, on the insistence of my parents, who must have been concerned about their teenage daughter going on holiday with an older man. However, Keith was very shy, very reserved and courteous in a very old-fashioned way. He wouldn't have thought of going against my father's wishes. When my father asked if we had booked separate rooms, Keith would never have said 'yes' and not been truthful about it. I guess it was just a different era to today. Youngsters today would probably just laugh at how innocent we were. I
suppose it was inevitable that the distance between us caused by me working in Cambridge and Keith in Essex would put a strain on our relationship but, in spite of that, when I was 19 in September 1969, love won through and we became engaged. Three months later I finished my work at Addenbrookes and we were married on a very cold, snowy day on January 31, 1970 at Little Bentley church which was just up the road from Greshams. We had ushers who were all tall, much taller than Keith and I. They were wearing big coats but, as it was so cold, they were all hunched up and it looked like we were surrounded by Mafia henchmen! We honeymooned in Portugal and then I transferred to the main hospital in Colchester where I worked for six months, but I gave up on my nursing training when the
combination of working on Greshams and working night shifts all became a bit too much. After our marriage I'd moved into Keith's third floor flat in Inglis Road, Col-chester. Meanwhile, we both worked hard at getting Greshams ready to move into. Then, in July 1970, I returned to work, this time at a dental practice in Colchester. We eventually moved in to Greshams, in July 1971. Keith's parents had already moved into a house on the other side of the road. Keith's father was an absolute darling. His mother was more like me so I guess we tended to clash a little, but she was one of a kind, such a character, I've never met anyone else like her. I think she thought at one point they were going to move in to the house at Greshams when it was built but, in the meantime, Keith had met me and that plan never came to fruition.
Nevertheless, Keith's mother and I eventually became very good, close friends. Having them across the road was tremendous, particularly as Keith was very close to both his parents. We would both have tea in bed, have our breakfast and then Keith would go across the road every morning to visit his parents for half an hour, and he'd go back again at the end of the day for a while before we sat down for our tea.
Life was quite exciting. The time we spent transforming the house into a home was a lovely period in our lives. I didn't want to move in until we had a reasonable kitchen, somewhere to sit in the evenings, a bedroom and a bathroom. However, when we first moved in, it was still pretty basic. Keith worked so hard-particularly bearing in mind how much work he had to do on the farm. Although the builders had put up the walls, the windows and the roof, Keith and I did most of the other work.
When we were first married, the floor of the lounge/dining room - which was huge - was completely bare, an earth floor. We bought a second-hand oak floor which was covered in linoleum, from the garrison at Colchester. We laid it down and scraped off all the linoleum, then polished it up which was well worth the effort as a beautiful oak parquet flooring was revealed. It was lovely to do that together, even though it was jolly hard work. We had a friend called Sid who was in the building trade who helped out from time to time. He was the boss. For our part, I guess Keith and I were the lads, doing as Sid was instructing us along the way. Someone else plastered the walls, otherwise, I think we did just about everything else.
Life was pretty good and Keith and I, despite being quite different in our own ways, got on wonderfully well. Keith was always very quiet. He would never be the one who would say 'Come on, let's go down the pub', or 'let's go to the theatre', but if ever I suggested we went to a pub or to the theatre, he'd love it. If ever I suggested we have people round for dinner he'd say: 'Oh, no, not tonight', but, whenever people came, he'd be the perfect host.
I suppose Keith's idea of an ideal life would have been to enjoy a quiet time at home with his family, just enjoying himself with us. I know some people, when they first met Keith, may have thought he was very reserved, but he was so witty and clever. It's not as though he was ever unambitious, just that he'd never been one to draw attention to himself. He absolutely hated being in the spotlight. Despite keeping ourselves busy we still found time to indulge in our passion for holidays. We went on a cruise around the Mediterranean which included a three-day visit to Israel and, later, we went to Morocco - which turned out to be the last holiday we'd enjoy to-gether before our children were born. Before the boys came along I'd help Keith on the farm. Was Keith my boss? Well, he would have liked to think so! I have to admit I was a lousy farmer's wife, never very good at it. On the other hand, Keith was an extremely good farmer. It was his passion, even though he'd had no background in
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farming.
When Keith was a small child he was sent away to Dames' School, which he absolutely hated. His one pleasure there, however, was his window box in which he'd cul-tivate seeds and that instigated his passion for growing. I suppose Keith's father should have been a grower of some sort because he was very good at it. Later in life Keith went to school at a public boarding school in Holt, Norfolk called Greshams, a period of his life that he truly loved, and that's why, later in life, he decided to name his own farm after the school he had so much affection for.
Keith went on to attend Writtle Horticultural College as a young man. He really enjoyed it there, it was a good time in his life, and then, when he was 20, he did his two years' National Service, working in an office at Aldershot where the officers were trained. However, Keith didn't really enjoy Army life, although he did enjoy the com-
radeship. Then he went to work in Bury for a while where he learned how to be a horticulturalist at a rose growers. He then began growing his own roses in two fields near Colchester and began supplying a local company, Cant's, who specialised in roses. It was arduous work, but Keith put his back into it to make it a success. He then began to grow strawberries and apple trees and that's around the time I first knew him.
When I'd finished full time work I'd help Keith plant out the strawberries and help out when it was time to pick them. Day-to-day life involved hard work on the farm during the daytime and working on the house at Greshams in the evenings. It was good fun, but such hard work. Although it was very tiring, Keith was tremendous. What stamina he had! I've never known anyone able to keep going as long as he did. He had tremendous inner strength as well as outer strength. Maybe that's what kept him going for so long when he became ill. Physically he could work and work and work. I'll never know where he got his energy from. He'd be up by 7am, have hisbreakfast, then visit his parents before starting work on the farm by 8.30am. He'd pop back to the house by 10.30am for a cup of coffee, then he'd be off again before returning for half an hour at 12.30pm for lunch. Then he'd be back at work until 5.30pm when he'd pop back to check up on his mum and dad. After a quick bite to eat, he'd be out again on the farm.
Often during the summer months he'd be up sprayingcrops at 3am. He was full of energy and never knew what a day's illness was like. He was strong too, although to look at him you wouldn't necessarily have thought so. He'd think nothing of spending hours working on a tractor then getting out a big, heavy rotavator to turn the soil. Strawing strawberry fields is an extremely tiring job but Keith never thought anything of it.
He worked long, long hours on his own. He'd start pruning in the orchard in November and keep going right through until March, working completely alone, never once complaining. It was the same when he was working in the strawberry fields, even though there was a team of ladies who helped him there. They absolutely adored Keith. I think that's because he was a very good boss who was also prepared to lead by example by working really hard himself. At one time he even took on another area to grow apples in nearby Weeley for a while but then he stopped operating there and bought another piece of land adjacent to Greshams. This increased the acreage to 25 which, in terms of horticulture, was a pretty fair size.
As time went by we settled in nicely at Greshams and, after two years' marriage, I became pregnant with our first son Andrew. At the time I was working at a dental practice but, when I was six months' pregnant, I stopped working. When I first told Keith about the imminent arrival of a little one I was a little taken aback by his reaction. To be fair, we'd never even really talked about having a family and, in effect, Keith and I were almost in different generations. This was emphasised when I think back to when we first met. Keith was actually a friend of my parents-in fact, he was almost in the same generation as my parents. He was their friend before I ever met him. When I eventually broached the subject that I would quite like to start a family, Keith was incredulous: 'What? Oh dear, I'd never even thought about that!'
Perhaps it wasn't too surprising when I first informed Keith he was about to become a father that he didn't seem quite as excited by the fact as I'd thought he would be. I'm sure it was due to the generational thing when men didn't show their emotions as much as young men of my own generation had been brought up to do. Keith had never really been one to show his emotions and I put that down to the fact that he'd been sent away to live in a Dame's School - an old-fashioned pre-preparatory school run by two elderly ladies, in nearby Tattingstone, when he was just three and a half years old and where he remained until he was seven years old.
Keith absolutely hated it there. The experience left him with deep emotional scars and that, I'm sure, is why he was unable to express his emotions in any appreciable way until much later in life. 'Keith, I'm expecting, I told him. 'Oh, are you? That's good,' he replied quietly. I was rather disappointed. I'd hoped he'd be jumping up and down shouting out 'Great!', but it just didn't happen like that. That said, there was no doubting Keith's excitement when Andrew was born on 21 November, 1972, and he proved to be a super dad. I stayed in hospital for a week before returning home to Greshams and it's just as well that Andrew was such an easy baby to deal with. In those days-and particularly bearing in mind the generational thing-fathers would leave most of the responsibilities of dealing with the newborn to their mothers, and Keith was no exception - mostly, though, due to the fact that a busy farm doesn't run itself. I got a lot of help though from Keith's father who was brilliant with young children. Keith did have the paternal instinct, it's just that it took a little while for it to come to the fore.
For my part, I was pretty stubborn. I wanted to assure people that I was quite able to cope with my new baby by myself but, one day, I was absolutely shattered and, although I can remember sitting on the floor with Andrew lying on his changing mat, I can't remember anything else because I dropped off to sleep. By the time I'd woken up Keith had burped Andrew, washed him down and changed him before getting him off to sleep and laying him in his cot. He then tapped me on the shoulder and told me it was time I went to bed. Yes, Keith was quite capable of looking after a baby, it's just that, in those days, the roles of the father and mother were far more specific than they are today, which is another reason I was not really expected to work after Andrew was born. New mums in those days were usually expected to stay at home and look after their babies. Nevertheless, I still tried to make myself useful on the farm, even if it meant I was only doing the accounts.
When Andrew was about six months old, Keith's mother became ill. She was taken in to hospital where it was expected she would have a kidney removed but it turned out she had cancer. It was a real shock to us all and we all thought we were going to lose her. She had been convinced she would never be a grandmother, particularly as Keith was well into his thirties by the time he met me. Because of the nature of her illness, we decided we would like to extend our family more quickly and, as a result, on 22 April 1974, our second son Simon was born.
Afterwards, I really didn't work much on the farm at all. Keith was really good, working hard all day on the farm to make sure it would support us all. That was always one of his main worries - that the income from the farm would be sufficient for his family. Nevertheless, we always seemed to find enough money to go on holiday and we have many happy memories of the times we went away with the boys. By now we had lots of friends to meet up with and these were such lovely times we were able to share and to look back on.
Greshams was, in fact, an idyllic place to bring up children. Yes, we had a good life and we were both very, very happy with our little family.
DIRE STRAIGHTS
Years later I remember being told at a Parkinson's Disease meeting that the condition could be caused by a trigger point in the sufferer's life. Well, over the years, there have been several points in Keith's life that could well be responsible for the condition that struck him. Now, looking back, I can't help feeling partly responsible for Keith's health problems. Had I not been so wrapped up in my own career, had I spent more time at home, maybe Keith could have been spared some of the challenges in life he eventually had to face each day, typically without complaint.
It was after Simon was born that I became a committed Christian. Although Keith's mother survived her cancer, my father died very suddenly and unexpectedly after suffering a heart attack. Simon was only a month old at the time. As a result, my mother and my younger brother Gary came to stay with Keith and me quite often. I suppose after a family tragedy you tend to ask the big questions. What's life all about? When my mother had called me to say my father was lying on the floor, I'd hurried round, but it was too late, he had already died. I remember thinking 'is that it?'
By now my sister Catherine had become a Christian and it was she who encouraged me to find out more about the faith. I had been brought up in a Christian family but I had turned away from it. Eventually though I returned to the faith after some crunch points in my life which obviously included the death of my father. I guess his death made me think more about such matters and I became a committed Christian. I began training to become a lay reader in 1974. This must have been a very 'interesting' time for Keith because it was like I was falling in love with another man - Jesus. Suddenly, Keith had to cope with me taking on a whole new way of life, and I'm sure that must have been quite a challenge for him, particularly as the Christian way was not in his own background at all. Meanwhile, we were kept busy working and raising our children. I was still a very bad farmer's wife - I used to pick all the wrong apples! In my defence, I was good at grading the apples, making sure that they were put onto rollers having been sorted according to their size, shape and colour before they were packed into boxes. Over the years, I took on various other jobs alongside the farm work. Keith, for his part, was working so hard, regularly getting up at 3am so he could make an early start by spraying the strawberries which, looking back, although we had absolutely no proof, Keith and I strongly suspected had made an enormous contribution to his health problems.
On 7 November 1978, our third son Ben was born. By now Keith was 44. To say Ben was a surprise would be an understatement! I had wanted another child but Keith thought he was too old to go through all that all over again. Simon had just begun school and I'd decided that Keith was probably right. As I was in training to become a lay reader I'd just accepted the fact that our family was as big as it had needed to be.
Ben's birth rather put the kybosh on all that. Nevertheless, Ben was a blessed surprise. At first Keith and I wouldn't talk about the pregnancy and, even when I was going into the maternity hospital, we had no idea what name we would be choosing for our third child. But, when Ben was born, he was absolutely gorgeous - really lovely
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- and we very quickly bonded together.
I think I must have been one of the first individuals they couldn't make a Reader because I was in hospital instead of Chelmsford Cathedral, trying not to have my baby five weeks early. I actually became a Lay Reader at the end of 1978.
For the uninitiated, a Lay Reader in the Church of England is a layperson who is authorised by a bishop to teach, preach and lead worship.
I was helped a lot by the parish priest of Tendring, Beaumont and Little Bentley, Frank Millar, who became a good friend who greatly encouraged me with my ministry.
Frank really treated me as he would a curate rather than just a Reader which made me realise there were a lot of things I wanted to do that I couldn't do as a Reader. I wanted to be able to celebrate communion - and to conduct marriages. I wanted to preach Christ but I knew there would be plenty of obstacles along the way, plenty of doors that could be shut in my face.
Having eventually become a Reader, which I did for several years, I realised the extra pressure it was putting on Keith. Still incredibly busy holding the fort, Keith worked on, never once complaining as I followed the path of my choice. There were only two women Readers in the whole area when I was made one - but I'd never even given a thought about whether or not it was a male or female job. I just knew that it was something God was calling me to do. I knew there were no women priests but, initially, that was not even an ambition of mine as it had never entered my head that it would be a possibility, I just wanted to become a Lay Reader.
I returned to nursing in a hospital in nearby Tendring about a year after Ben was born. My return was prompted by the fact that the income from the farm, despite all Keith's hard work and long hours, was suffering dramatically. I hated working at Tendring - I remained there for a year - but, in truth, we were desperate for money to make ends meet. It seems silly that something like the building of a new road could have drastically changed our lives for the worse. Basically, Greshams was bypassed. This had a devastating effect on the strawberries side of our business. We used to have a Pick Your Own policy and passing motorists would see the signs and, as the sign suggested, they would stop to pick their own strawberries. Now we had lost our passing trade and, to make matters worse, at least as far as Keith and I were con-cerned, Britain joined the European Community. Subsidies meant the prices of apples and strawberries suddenly dropped to such an extent that we were struggling to
survive financially. Going back to nursing suddenly became my only choice. It was either that or go under.
Ben was cared for by my mother while I was working nights in the hospital. Andrew and Simon were at school. Because I hadn't actually finished my nursing training I was employed as an auxiliary nurse. Obviously, with Keith working all day, and me working all night, we didn't actually see a lot of each other and life soon proved a real struggle. We were so grateful for all the support we received from the family at this time.
Thankfully, the boys were not too aware of the problems Keith and I were facing. In fact, nowadays, the boys look back on their childhood days at Greshams with great affection. They particularly remember helping Keith out in the grading sheds with the apples and strawberries. Sometimes they would help out with the picking too. Simon remembers helping Keith clear a whole field with a tractor. Sam, our golden Labrador would be with them - he was also a big part of our lives. In the summer the boys thought it was great when people came to the farm to pick their own strawberries, and the boys would have great fun having raspberry fights!
Andrew recalls Greshams as being 'a dream - the perfect place for three boys to grow up in - we had so much space and freedom. We felt so secure as Dad was totally focused on the farm, he worked like a Trojan', while Simon reflects: 'Dad's work was a labour of love. He loved growing apples and strawberries. It was his passion. He just loved nature - he really must have done because now we know, there were times when he wasn't making a lot of money out of it. We had an idyllic life - I couldn't imagine growing up anywhere where we could have been happier.'
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