It’s only eight years late, dear reader, don’t fret too much!

In classic Kirsty and Issie fashion, we have left the final update of this blog to the very last minute. If you throw your minds back nearly a decade, you might remember that my mum and I climbed ten mountains for charity to mark ten years since Charlie died.

Just a mere 2,089 days after we climbed the final mountain of Charlie’s 10 we will be commemorating the twentieth anniversary of Charlie’s passing with a walk in the sunshine (hopefully) at Kew Gardens.

While it’s a little harder to remember the finer details of climbing Ben Nevis, it’s made me strangely happy to think back to that day. To remember how far we’ve come since then, and how hard we worked to get here.

Charlie’s 10 spanned two years, four countries, many conversations, and saw an extrarodinary spread of people come to support us.

In the August of 2018, Mum, Lottie and I arrived in Fort William after a miraculously argument-free car journey and many mediocre service station sandwiches. I remember we could never eat another Beef and Horseradish sandwich after that period due to extreme overconsumption, I still can’t stand the taste of horseradish.

Ben Nevis was the final mountain of our ambitious mission and there was a bitter sweet feeling to it.

The day started sort-of-warm, but with bright and brisk sunshine over our heads. As we ascended, our luck with the weather waned as the grey Scottish clouds began to stretch over us but that had become a staple of our mountain experience!

Our wonderful spaniel Lottie bounded up the mountain. We’re very sad to say that she’s no longer with us, but she was a blessing on that walk. No matter how tiring it felt, seeing that little dog sprinting backwards and forwards up an increasingly scrambly mountainside you couldn’t help but take a deep breath and keep marching on. If she could do it, so could we.

While we didn’t get a clear view at the top of Ben Nevis, it didn’t seem to matter too much. We’d done it. Ten mountains, and by that point, twelve years without Charlie. God it felt like a long time, longer I’m sure for those of you who remembered him well.

It’s funny looking back at the photos. I was just fourteen and while it feels a world away now, I can still remember with some precision how difficult some moments still felt.

Now, I write this over twenty years after Charlie died. It’s still difficult and it’s still sad. But, life marches on and some things do change.

We have the wonderful Rafferty Arthur in our lives, my brilliant brother.

While he doesn’t remember much of Charlie’s 10, he has been the greatest treasure of our last few years. The gift his kindness, laughter, and seemingly endless patience has been to us is challenging to put in words.

I finished secondary school and went off to the same university Charlie did, which was amazing and strange. I’m now studying for an MA and hoping to pursue a career in journalism. I often find myself wanting to consult Charlie on my stories, from what I understand, he would probably have had something ingenious to contribute.

Mum started an extraordinarily successful business all on her own (and in the depths of Covid at that!) She teaches lots of people all of her wonderful Instagram tricks, and continues to be awarded for her incredible work. She is also the most incredible mother, which I’m sure Raffy and I haven’t always made easy.

Our mum is the most resilient person we know without question. In commemorating twenty years without my dad, I must also thank her for everything she’s done for us. None of this would have been possible without her.

It would also be amiss not to thank all of you. Whether you climbed a mountain with us, donated to The Red Cross, Great Ormond Street, or Winston’s Wish in Charlie’s memory, sent us letters, or gave us hugs, you have made the last twenty years not only bearable but joyous.

In particular, I want to say thank you to my amazing grandparents, Jane and Brian (Charlie’s parents) and Philly and Andrew (Mum’s parents). Your strength and guidance over the years has been unyielding. Without the many roasts, and hugs, and stays at your lovely homes who knows where we’d be. We love you all very much.

 

As I look forward to the walk this Saturday, I’m reminded of how important anniversaries are. Over the years they have, at times, been a whole variety of sad, happy, horrible, and wonderful. What we have learnt over the years, is that love prevails even in the most horrendous of circumstances – as testified by each and every one of you who has shown up for us and each other in the last twenty years.

While Charlie isn’t here anymore, I feel his love everwhere in all of you. When we have bad days and great days, when we laugh and most importantly when we show love for each other. He lives on in everyone who knew him and who had the opportunity to spend however long they did with him.

Charlie’s 10 is now officially over (thanks to the closure my no doubt highly-anticipated and 2000 day overdue blog post has brought) but we hope you all keep marching on for Charlie. We certainly do.

Love,

Issie ( and Kirsty and Lottie)