Supervet: Heartbreaking day I said goodbye to my dying hero dad ... and why I’m still not married at 50
TV STAR NOEL FITZPATRICK IN HIS OWN WORDS
HE’S the first vet to achieve rock star status. Not only does Noel Fitzpatrick have his own hit Channel 4 TV show, The Supervet, and an arena tour (Aberdeen on November 9, Glasgow the next day, then Edinburgh), he was also guest at Meghan and Harry’s wedding, after treating her beloved beagle, Guy.
But life began for the 50-year-old on a farm in County Laois, Ireland, where he learned his love for animals from dad, Sean. In an exclusive extract from his new book, Listening to the Animals, Noel pays tribute to his father in a painfully raw account of his death in 2006.
And despite being dubbed one of Britain’s most eligible bachelors, he explains why he’s still single:
WHEN the phone call came to tell me Daddy was in hospital and it wasn’t looking good for him, I was working at the first Fitzpatrick Referrals vet practice, a hut surrounded by woods in Tilford in Surrey.
It was August 22, 2006, and I ran from my office into the woods and as far as I could, until there was cattle, sheep and darkness, and there I fell on my knees, and I wailed.
My hero was dying. I cried and cried until I could cry no more. I couldn’t even begin to come to terms with this devastating news.
Daddy had been out at the back of our house, seeing to the cattle in the yard, when he suddenly collapsed. He was unconscious, and remained that way until he died a few days later.
I got to his bedside at Portlaoise General Hospital, the same place where I was born, and was crushed by a feeling of inadequacy.
I had not been there to pick him up when he had fallen that day. I had failed. I held his hand and whispered into his ear but I still have no idea if he heard me.
I told him I loved him very much, that I was very grateful for everything with which he had blessed me and I thanked him for doing his best.
On August 25, Mammy said that she had noticed a “change” in the afternoon, and he passed away two hours later.
My daddy, that larger-than-life man whom I tried to emulate in so many ways, simply stopped breathing, my mammy holding his hand and his family all around him.
He was 82 years old but in my head and heart he was ageless, a small giant of a man, my daddy, my hero.
Daddy was an amazing storyteller and poet, who had a few dozen poems and madrigals at the tip of his tongue to recite with eloquent, dramatic flair.
He loved an audience, it was like two different people lived in the same man… the stern, strict, strong farmer and the consummate, compassionate, sensitive showman. Conversely, I can’t remember him ever in my childhood actually saying the words “sorry” or, indeed, “well done”, when I had actually done something right.
I know he meant to say those things, as well as “I’m proud of you” and “I love you”, but his language was one of action, and the action was that of a nod or a silent smile, rather than a slap on the back or a hug.
That wasn’t his way or the way of most Irish farmers at the time.
Daddy didn’t talk to me much about anything other than farming during my
In my head he was ageless, a small giant of a man, my hero NOEL REMEMBERS HIS DAD, FARMER SEAN
childhood or teenage years, though I know that he was secretly proud, and Mammy told me since that he voiced this pride to others, just not directly to me.
There is no question that Daddy tried to look after me and my brother and sisters as best he could. There was one particular moment, though, when he gave me something for the sake of giving, rather than the need to simply provide.
It was my 10th birthday and I remember the glint in his eye as he handed me a Timex wristwatch in a blue box.
He just handed it to me in the hallway at our house, nodded and smiled. I opened it and, overjoyed, I went to hug him but he stepped back, just smiled again and was gone. Hugging was not really for him.
Mammy found Daddy’s death very difficult. She never got to say goodbye and she had desperately wanted him to tell her what to do with the stock and the farm. Everyone grieves differently, but I know for both Mammy and myself the healing tears didn’t come until much, much later, and the empty space in our hearts was never to be filled. There was no definitive closure and no goodbyes.
And sometimes I’ll cry now for no apparent reason when I face some crisis or other, and I wish with all my being that I could talk with him.
Apparently, he had a brain haemorrhage and would have known nothing about it.
He was lucky. This was exactly the way he wanted to go, to die working.
Daddy never wanted to retire and he didn’t want to die of illness or be a burden to anyone. I hope that Daddy is somewhere in a parallel universe where there are lots of cattle and sheep to be minded and some bog land to be reclaimed.
Iwish I could say to him that I really respect him and I love him very much, even though we never actually said that to each other. If I could speak to him now, there are many things I would say.
I do understand why you couldn’t pick baby Noel and Mammy Rita up from hospital.
It was because your task in hand could not be successfully delegated to another.
And if I’m ever lucky enough to have a baby of my own, I’ll make sure that I am there at the birth and I’ll think of you as I gently hug that precious little life. I’ll close my eyes and imagine you saying to me, I’m proud of you, Noel – and I will say to you, I’m proud of you too, Daddy.
I miss you, Daddy. You are always beside me in my head and in my heart. Extracted by Rhian Lubin ●Copyright Fitz All Media Limited, 2018. Extracted from Listening to the Animals: Becoming the Supervet, by Noel Fitzpatrick. Published by Trapeze on October 18 priced £20 in hardback. Also available in ebook and audio. ●Noel’s currently on a nationwide tour, Welcome to My World, and on C4.
Mammy found his death very difficult. She never said bye NOEL ON RITA’S GRIEF AT LOSING HER HUSBAND