I’m so sorry to read of this. I have followed J’s journey and enjoyed the humility and honesty of it and now to read this. I dunno what to say except I am so sorry for your loss and hope that when the sun (eventually) shines you can feel the heat on your face and remember the good times.
I’m tempted to say what a sad situation but what an incredibly brave man. A few years ago me and a bunch of my friends were passed on the red climb at Glentress by a one-armed cyclist who had a hook on the end of his prosthetic arm and this was hooked around his bars. We were totally in awe of him and still regularly talk about him to this day.
Happy Trails J, deepest sympathy T, happy memories never die.
Dear Trudi – I have quietly followed your posts about Julian over the last while, thinking all the time how brave both you and he are. I’m very sorry to hear of your loss, I can only wish you all strength in the knowledge that you are not alone in grieving for him, the posts above only show what a high regard he was held in by all around. RIP
Thank you all for your lovely messages. I feel so proud of him when I read stuff like this (but you know that anyway) and I feel lucky to have been with such a remarkable man, even though it was for not nearly long enough.
I am going to miss him more than I can imagine but once everything has calmed down here, I think I am going to travel for a bit and visit some of his favourite cycling and climbing places and just remember the good times.
I was in a very similar situation to Bullheart when in 2009 I was diagnosed with Skin Cancer & I was sitting alone at home after having a second op to remove another chuck of skin breaking down in tears convinced I was going to die when I noticed a post by TN about her husbands fight against Cancer & getting back on the bike.
We managed to get in touch & both T & J gave me advice, comfort & support and made me realise that the dark thoughts were all part of the journey I was going through. I too owe them both a huge debt which I will never be able to adequately repay. I was a very scared & lost soul who they helped get back in touch with reality.
We continued our friendship & I was very pleased when J & T came to Cornwall for a holiday. I was able to thank them in person for their help & support during my darkest hour. My most treasured memory was the day we all went riding on Dartmoor & I was able to show them round my ‘patch’. To say that J was a legend is not an understatement, to ride that route with only one arm was outstanding & very humbling.
South Hessary Tor
Jobbers Road
Me & the Man himself
I am very heavy hearted that a very special friend has gone far too soon.
On the day he died I wrote this as my tribute to a fantastic man, husband & friend:
Today you fell asleep & God took you to be his newest star in the Sky. Pain free at long last & no more fighting that devil within. Sleep well my friend until we meet again. RIP.
Sad news. I’m sorry I never got the chance to meet him although I’ve followed his inspirational story on here. He was a truly great man. My condolences to his family and friends. RIP.
Trudi. I followed your posts and feel a deep admiration for you and am humbled by the love and honesty shown here. Take your time on your journey; carry our thoughts with you.
I have followed your posts and was hoping to meet you both as part of Team Bullheart at mayhem last year but never did. Very sad to hear the news of J’s passing. He always sounded like a truly good guy. My thoughts are with you.
I am very sorry to here this. I had heard of your husband as well and had been impressed with his tenacity. Despite the indifference of the universe we humans still have the ability to care for each other. To face the blows of fate with warm stoicism in a cold world.
Steve, I’d just come back to post that same link, so thank you.
There is a link in the article to a blog J used to write for a website called My Name Is Not Cancer which, if you have a bit of time, I’d love if you’d have a look. For a bloke who reckoned he had no writkng skills I think he wrote brilliantly.
Am having an okay day today – bawling my eyes out reading the many cards that keep arriving, but in a ‘nice’ way.
I can’t believe how many lives it appears he touched, I really can’t.
I feel so proud.
I’m so sad to hear this. There’s going to be a pretty decent group ride going on on the other side with some of the folks that have left us recently. Thoughts to the friends and families of them all.
Lost my wife to the same terrible illness.
10 years on and believe me times really do get better.
Now I’m not religious at all, not a bit. But have always thought of Vicars and the like to be generally knowledgeable people.
At the funeral I said to the Vicar ”this is something I don’t think I can get over” .
He’s reply was very abrupt I thought at the time, he said ”you wont get over it, but eventually you will learn to get on with it”
It was a good few years before I realised exactly what he meant and although it was no comfort then it is now…its almost as if you are allowed to get on with it. I know my wife would have wanted me to and I’m sure your man had the same view.
So.. small steps but make sure you going forward. Tomorrow will be better than today and so-on…
I have been truly moved to tears by this thread. Not by the sadness of the J’s passing but how J & T not only had the courage to carry on living their lives more than most, but also by the way in which they have reached out to help others in similar situations despite there own obvious turmoil.
I have had 2 close family members taken prematurely by cancer and I am currently going through the final stages of loosing a third so I can safely say that it is indeed an all consuming disease for all those involved. So J & T to take the time out to help and inspire so many others during their own ordeal is an almighty act of courage, bravey and selflessness.
Ride in peace J, and ride on T with J in the gusts of wind, the streams of light through the tress, the glints in the snow and everything else that is wonderful when your out there.
Lovely words from so many of you. Thank you again.
It’s not making it any less painful but it IS making me smile to read all your comments.
‘Later’, at Julians request, I will be taking little ‘J dolls’ (format so far undecided) and leaving them in places we liked to go, so look out, on your travels, for little one armed dolls and smile for him when you see them. 🙂
I think he asked me to do this so he could ensure I did not become a hermit when he had gone.
My humblest and most sincere thoughts go out to you, I never met the man in person but his blog/posts moved me deeply and motivated me to see things from a different perspective.
I hope there is some sweet single track up there buddy, peace to you, you loved ones and all those in such turmoil.
I haven’t been following your story – don’t spend as much time on here as I used to since moving to South Africa for a bit, but it certainly sounds as though J was quite a guy and put up a hell of a fight. Good for him! Condolances to you T.
To think I didn’t go out riding today because “it’s a bit cold” 🙁
Hi.
I never thought earlier and it is probably FAR too short notice now, but if any of you would like to come and say so long to him, or just have a drink with us afterwards, the funeral is at Wisewood Woodland Cemetery in Sheffield at 2.45pm tomorrow and then at The Plough Inn at Low Bradfield afterwards.
I appreciate a lot of you aren’t local, but I know some of you are and you would be more than welcome.
No sombre funeral clothes, just come as you are…
I’ll be the blubbering wreck up front, dressed in red. 🙂
I am numb at the moment, I feel like part of me died with him and after 20 years together it is going to be very strange being on my own. Although I know there are so many out there sending their love that I am not alone, really…
I haven’t had the fortune to meet you or your husband but have recently had a similar experience, losing my SO of 22 years to cancer. I am so sorry this has happened to you, and concur with your remarks.
If I could give you some heartfelt advice: keep those who are dear to you close by; accept that things are not going to be “normal” for a long while; consider professional bereavement counselling (I am finding this quite helpful) as well as accepting all the love from your family and friends; there is no rush to make further big changes in your life and in fact it probably best not to.