Day 11

Day 11: Lest we forget..

It’s 5.52am and I’ve had a fairly good sleep. Lying here in the beautiful doorway of St Mary's - Ecclesfield , a cloudy moon is alone in the sky. When I went to sleep the sky was full of stars. I don’t know their names.  

If Gav was here he might tell me something about constellations. He died in 2020 after years of alcohol abuse. When I first knew him, sometimes passed out on the Cathedral grass, I couldn’t have guessed at the intelligence that filled his head. I wouldn’t have guessed the horrors either. The violent death he witnessed, the rejection by his stepdad, the journey into the care system which didn’t work for him, the loss of a daughter and so the story goes on.

This doorway is poignant too. The last time I was here was for the funeral of K. Twenty years of military service, three stripes on his arm and enough trauma to sink a battleship. He used the Archer Project for just a few months. In that time we saw the two sides, a joy and zest for life and the tremendous weight of internal pain that he couldn’t shed. He let it go in the only way he knew how.

This may sound strange but I’ve just sat and named a whole list of people who used our project and others in Sheffield and who are now dead. It doesn’t feel morbid. Sat here, it feels respectful. Jason, Liam, Spence, Jo, John, Stephen, Charlotte... you don’t need to hear all the names and it’s far too long a word count for a blog. Besides, there are too many for me to remember and if I feel any sadness this morning it’s because I think they shouldn’t be forgotten. 

But I don’t feel sad, I feel hopeful. I set out on this journey to have a conversation about homelessness and the response has been amazing. That can only be a good and hopeful thing. You’ve got to have hope, haven’t you? 

And I slept well last night. I think that makes a difference too.

I’ve got a can of beer here and that reminds of someone. He used to open his bottle of drink first thing in the morning. The very first thing he did to get him going. He had been a cook and we agreed with him that if he could come into the centre without that early morning drink he could help in the kitchen. He did and at first he lasted till eight o’clock before leaving for that drink. And then it was half past eight, then nine. He had hope and he worked at it with just a little help from us. When he died it was in his own home. He hadn’t conquered his demons, but he had done enough to be proud.

We didn’t know about trauma back then. I wonder what difference that might have made to the journey we offered him?

I have never started the day with alcohol, but maybe today… I think I’ll save it for tonight. 

If you want to know more about changing the lives of people who are homeless visit www.archerproject.org.uk 

To donate follow the link https://www.justgiving.com/campaign/timssleepoutslog