WHEN MY SISTER DIED I LOST MY BEST FRIEND
a way of not having to field endless emails, texts and phone calls but it quickly became something else too. And I think that is what is so refreshing about it because really there is very little ‘Why me?’ in it all.”
The final third of the book is written by Greg after he moved in to care for Clare and she became too weak to type. And if there are still (somewhat extraordinarily) laugh-out-loud moments as her condition worsens the tone inevitably shifts into a meditation of life, love and death.
In one section he writes about the need to celebrate the small things in life such as the triumph of finding a pair of matching socks, or the simple joy of watching someone open their eyes and smile at you first thing in the morning.
In another he muses that “every atom in everything we can see, everywhere, all came from the Big Bang, and has just been circulating in various forms ever since.
“Atoms in my body today may once have been a tree in Australia, a fish in the Bay of Bengal, a glacier in the Arctic, in Attila the Hun’s toenail or Moses’ spleen. Nothing is created or destroyed, it just keeps eternally passing through the universe, stopping for a while and then moving on. And that thought soothes me, witnessing what is happening to my sister.” He is fiercely protective of the NHS and the experience of looking after Clare has made him a passionate advocate of the need for carers to be recognised and helped more.
“There’s this mammoth section of society that is totally unpaid and it’s insane. I saved the NHS huge sums of money by caring for my sister at home and if you multiply that by the millions of carers across the country then we are in big trouble if they ever decide to stop caring. And I did it for 12 weeks or so – there are people who have done it for 20 years or more. How do they not go mad?
“I’m fortunate enough to have the money and the kind of job and the family around me where I could just say, ‘Clear the decks, I’m doing this.’ Millions of people have to cope without that. They are extraordinary and it is criminal.”
Ultimately what comes through strongest from the pages of the book is Clare herself. And for her brother that is enough. “No one ever really dies,” he says. “Their resonance doesn’t die. And I love the fact that Clare can still resonate with people who never met her, that total strangers can feel like they really knew her essence. Because her blog, this book… this really is the essence of my sister.”
To order Not That Kind Of Love by Clare and Greg Wise (Quercus, £16.99) call the Express Bookshop with your bank card details on 01872 562 310. Or send a cheque or PO made payable to Express Bookshop to: Quercus Offer, PO Box 200, Cornwall, TR11 4WJ or order online at expressbookshop.co.uk UK delivery is free.