Remembering Hilary

Eulogy for Hilary Gibson 
by Graeme Gibson

Hilary Gibson. My soulmate. Proud mother of three amazing children. At 66 taken from us all far, far, far too soon.

Today, I and our three children are surrounded by friends made possible by her lifetime of actions to ensure people are around us to give the support so needed at this time of immense grief and sorrow.

Hilary was born in Bridgnorth, Shropshire, she lived in Wales and then London. She went to a Welsh school until 13 years of age where half her lessons were in Welsh so she either sank or swam. As we would expect, she swam – but maybe only as good as her fragile movement in real water.

As a newly married couple, we moved to Essex but then nearly 43 years ago we moved to Castle Camps. We were in the process of buying a property in Dunmow, Essex when by pure chance we saw this property in Camps and immediately fell in love with what became Setters, named after our two Irish Setters. We encountered so many barriers during the purchase of Setters, but fate continued playing its hand and maybe we were always destined to live our lives together in this wonderful place.

For the first five of those 43 years we both worked in London, and we were but mere commuters. Then, on the birth of our first child, Nicola, Hilary truly blossomed and began to throw herself into village life with the playgroup, the baby-sitting circle, the village fete, the village school PTA, the village magazine, the parish council and so much more. She even dabbled in amateur dramatics with CADS but quickly found a way for me to take her place preferring not to be centre stage.

Our home became a local drop-in centre where all were welcomed. But she was also there for individuals when a friend was needed and happiest when she could put a smile on someone’s face, often using her wacky but loveable sense of humour. Castle Camps became the place that Hil firmly regarded as her hometown. She never wanted to move, even when I found myself commuting up to five hours a day for work, she was determined this was our home, an environment, and a home she made sure gave our children the support she believed all children need to thrive and possibly one she never had herself. An environment where she recognised the true goodness of the people around us.

Everyone here has their own memories and recollections of Hilary but one of her most infuriating traits, but also endearing, was her tendency to sidle up to complete strangers; on the beach, in the desert or just the supermarket carpark and start a conversation. Because of this we affectionately called her the moron magnet as she always insisted it was others that made the first contact. While we all knew it was her.

Most people who know us well, know we married young. I was 20 and Hilary 19. We knew of each other at school but never mixed in the same circles and were never a couple there. Aged 13/14, Hilary lived not far from my home in London, having moved back from North Wales where she had lived with her grandparents; returning to live with her mother, sister Karen, stepfather, and half-brother. They also had a family pet, a large Alsatian called Kirk which Hilary would often walk in the evening.

Move forward a couple of years and at age 16 I was an awkward, skinny, very tall, and immensely shy adolescent with buck teeth and huge ears. I was bullied because I looked so different and stood out. I had very little self-confidence. However, I was aware that Hilary used to walk their family dog past our house most evenings and I used to sit on our front garden wall when the weather allowed just for the opportunity to say hello as she walked past and maybe grab a few moments of her time. I was smitten. To me she was perfect, but I had so little self-confidence to say more. She was however the only person I have ever wanted in my life, and I eventually developed sufficient confidence by the time I was 18 to ask her out for a date. I nearly blew that as I took her to a country pub and she asked for a cider and not wanting to appear stingy I bought her a pint which I am sure was not totally welcome. But she didn’t say a word and just struggled through drinking it all. That was that we were bound together by an invisible bond for ever. Since that time, apart from the last five days of her life, there has not been a day where we were not together or had not spoken with each other over the phone in nearly 50 years.

Hilary was playful, fun, and made me want to be a better person every day of our life together for me to earn the right of her being my soulmate. This was even when she insisted on singing her latest favourite song out loud and often only the one line she remembered over and over and over again. The grand New Year’s Eve parties we organised with the Beach’s and the Boyd’s. The smaller parties we held at our own home and the endless round of dinner parties – she just loved being with people and when she could, make them smile, even if it was just one of her looks. In more recent years, just love and the joy of each other’s company was all we required.

Once, in Vienna with friends, she would only agree to ride on the big wheel if we all agreed to splash in every puddle we encountered as we crossed the car park towards the wheel. And I mean splash. And there were a lot of puddles. Although in her 40s at the time, she was still very young at heart and was always fun to be with.

Her pleasures were simple, watching a rough sea was one at the top of the list, she could just stand for hours and watch the waves come in. Sennen Cove at Lands’ End was her most favourites of beaches and there were not many days when she wouldn’t look via a webcam at ‘her’ beach – one she always joked that if she won the lottery she would buy. For her 40th birthday, unknowingly to her, we drove overnight to Sennen while she slept in the car after a celebratory meal in London so when she awoke, she could see the sunrise over the beach. We spent the day there, driving back that evening. One very happy memory for our family among so many. On that day we bumped into the Bose family who many of you know and the Haverhill Echo staff photographer someone she just happened to know. The Bose family are there again today and will be saying a prayer for Hilary at her favourite spot at her most favourite place other than home.

Hilary frequently provided joy and comfort to others by being there when truly needed. Always willing to lend a hand or just simply listen. In recent years she proudly worked for Addenbrookes Stroke department as a medical secretary, a position she loved. Once more she had found the avenue to help people. She took the words of a former Addenbrookes CEO “proceed until apprehended” to heart and dedicated her time to going that extra mile to ensure patients got the treatment they needed and the medical staff the support they required. Some of you may have seen on our website dedicated to Hilary, messages from patients and the difference she had made to their lives. The result was she was loved by friends, colleagues and patients alike as shown by the volume of sympathy messages and cards we have received. And the people here today.

Today we must all face the reality that she is no longer with us in person. She is no longer a force of good for others. She leaves a huge hole in the lives of so many. While incredibly sad, I choose to celebrate the life that was Hilary Gibson and have created the hilarygibson.life website to help celebrate her life and implore everyone to share their memories of good times with Hil. At present these will need to be sent to me as either photos or a short message or both and I will ensure they are included. These collective memories will help us all remember the person she was, what she meant to us all and ensure the memory of her will never fade away.

We are also establishing a charity in Hilary’s name to continue her legacy of helping others with a focus on diseases that eventually led to Hilary’s untimely death. We are exploring plans to do this through education and raising awareness and working with Addenbrookes to understand how her worsening condition was missed when it could so easily made a difference. This is so that we may focus on those areas that are most needed. We also hope to work in liaison with other charities such as The UK Sepsis Trust and CUTIC, (Chronic Urinary Tract Infection Campaign) to change the attitude towards these two serious which sadly did not appear to get the attention of the medical staff at Addenbrookes their gravity deserves.

Hilary was a very special person. I know I shared her with so many, but I am so proud that she was happy to be my special person, my soulmate. My memory of her will keep me wanting to be the best I can be until my ashes eventually join her here and we are once again re-united.

Hilary, as always, all my love forever.