My tribute to Kate, my beloved wife and partner of 45 years.
I can barely believe I am writing this, but I have decided to honour my beloved Kate’s memory in this way and I do so with every atom and molecule of my being. She deserves nothing less.
I cannot imagine a life without my darling Kate. It is unconscionable and unbearable that she has died. However, there is one huge plus. She is suffering no more.
Kate was an exceptional woman and I was beyond lucky to have found her at the tender age of 25. I’d even go so far as to say that she saved me because of her consummate ability to always see the best in me. That was a huge and incomparable gift.
Kate was born in Rotherham in 1948, to Margaret and Bernard Atkinson. She had one sister, Susan, who was 3 years older than her. She always described a happy and close family life to me, up until the age of 12, when, tragically, she found her adored father dead in bed one morning. It’s impossible to imagine what she must have gone through, both then and since, coping with his death. Of all people, I know how profoundly his death and the fact that it was she who found him, defined the rest of her life, and it has been very noticeable how much her father has been present throughout the last 7 years, since Kate was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
I know that she took some degree of comfort from the fact that she knew my own father for well over 40 years and he became a sort of surrogate father for her in some small way and made the absence of her own father a little more bearable.
Anyone who knew Kate, in whatever capacity, knew what an exceptionally kind, gentle, giving and empathic woman she was. Someone said to me recently that she never pushed herself forward at anyone else’s expense and the person in question had really appreciated that. I had and have mixed feelings about that observation, though, because although Kate did often choose to hide her light under a bushel, I think she sometimes wished she could step out from under it more than she did and worry less about how others might feel when confronted by her many aptitudes.
I know it could sound over the top to describe anyone as a genius, but I really think Kate was and when you are that bright and show it, others can feel threatened. That was Kate’s fear, I think.
So I’m really not sure how many people knew just quite how exceptional Kate was, beyond the Oxford degree and being the youngest deputy head in London. She had the fiercest intellect I have ever encountered, combined with huge emotional intelligence. Such a rare combination!
Her novel, 50 Shades of Grey Hair, which I am so pleased she finished, took her a long time to decide to write, despite encouragement, though literature and writing were indubitably her first loves. She was a wonderful writer. I remember her beavering away finally writing her book, almost as though she knew Alzheimer’s was starting to ravage that wonderful mind of hers. Had this appalling disease not sunk its deadly fangs into her, I feel sure she would have written more.
I know that Kate would consider that the most fitting way to remember her would be to buy her book. It meant so very much to her to have written it. I would love you to leave a nice review on Amazon in her memory, if you feel so inclined. All royalties will go to the Alzheimer’s society. You can read more about her book and buy it by following the link below.
Book Link – Click Here
Kate faced Alzheimer’s with such a determination not to let it rob her of all she loved. And there were many times when she railed against it full of fury, devastated by the loss of her brain power. In the initial stages, there was also some decent quality of life and I remember with gratitude the numerous walks we had in our local park. We were very happy and close, our bond stronger than ever, and I know she too was happy and content in those moments. She also became much more extrovert as a result of the illness and at times I would watch her with others and think that this awful illness also freed her up in some key ways, but only in the early stages, of course.
Other than that, her suffering was agonising for her to endure and unbearable for me to watch.
I also know that all her decades at Skinner’s Company’s School for Girls, in Hackney, were of huge significance to her and it was very noticeable how much, throughout her illness, she often acted out the persona of Head of Lower School. She had brilliant conflict resolution skills and that was evident even with Alzheimer’s, in its earlier stages.
Kate loved to teach, when she got a chance, and I know many of Kate’s pupils loved and appreciated her, as did her colleagues. Many of Kate’s ex pupils have been in touch over the years and I know how moved she was on those occasions.
I know that she would have been very touched to think that anyone from Skinners’ or from her life outside the school, would leave a memory of her on the comments page of this site.
I thank you in advance from us both for doing so.
Kate would never have expected anyone to honour her, but I have no hesitation in asking you to do so, in whichever ways you see fit.
I have also recorded my eulogy.