The John Griff Column: On Reflection…

He said it was because if the money from the previous year’s budget allocation didn’t get spent, it would disappear from the allocation next year. As a former vehicle fleet manager for the British Army and in civilian life, he was right too. Budgetary spend notwithstanding, this is a season for reflection for me. Reflection for people past – and passed. My parents are gone, as are most of their generation in my family. Former teachers that I learned from are all but gone and it is now from my own generation that people are starting to vanish. Reflection, or at least taking stock is therefore an important element of my life. It shapes me as I approach my latter years – setting me apart from the coming generation to some degree too I suppose. This does not have to be a negative act though – far from it. If anything, it is a balanced process of affirmation - and one to savour.

Last Sunday was the second anniversary of the passing of my mother. On the day I made a point of not only toasting her in the pub, but also taking time to reflect on her. Both my parents died in the General Hospital. I was born there and it is where I first learned about broadcasting, so it is a place with heritage for me. Immediately after my time at the BBC ended, I found myself with an amount of time on my hands. I detest boredom, so to develop new skills by pulling on some of my existing ones, I underwent training to become a civil celebrant and, in time, achieved a nationally recognised qualification. I was in the middle of a residential course for this while mum was in at NGH through illness – her stay there would prove to be her last stay anywhere and somewhat perversely she ended up becoming my first client. I am forever grateful to the hospital’s staff for letting me visit her outside normal hours. It allowed me to reflect quite a bit – and prepare for what was an obvious and approaching certainty. I arranged the funerals of both of my parents - so when a distant cousin died on new Year’s Eve last year, my extended family saw me as the obvious candidate to do the same. Nobody else wanted to do the job, so I took it on. I never really knew Robert – and neither did anyone else really. He was quite a private person and none of us had much recollection to fall back on, so writing a eulogy posed a bit of a problem. I managed to do a little detective work, join a few dots and come up with something sounding positive and dignified - I hope he would have approved. We gathered just over a week ago for his final departure on what seemed like a glorious spring day.

I’m not sure if it’s something to do with my own age or just the current state of my mind, but my memories seem sharper than I previously recall them being. Is that a dividend from a little reflection and the resulting honing of my synapses? Soon after I left school, one of my classmates took his own life – it was a devastating moment for all of us who had known him. I recall feeling upset, guilty, angry but also relieved because ultimately, he had put an end to whatever had so badly tortured him. After his death his parents very graciously invited all of his closest friends to select an item of John’s belongings as a keepsake of him. If you ever see me wearing black brogues, they are his. Over forty years later they are a lasting reminder of the boy who grew to be a young man but not an old one. Truly, I have walked more than a mile in his shoes.

The armed forces have a phrase - ‘Time spent in reconnaissance is seldom wasted.’ Right now the forces in the Gulf States are working to prove the validity of it. I think you could easily replace the word ‘reconnaissance’ with that of ‘reflection’ and find benefit from practising it. Looking back helps in moving forward I think – Messrs Trump and Netanyahu might want to consider doing so in the interests of world peace. There are going to be more lives tragically saved from dotage in the coming weeks and months - has anyone reflected on the good that it will do?