Wild Card - Whose Shoes?

36. Keep calm and carry on

• Gill Phillips @WhoseShoes

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 70 years of continuity

How often does that happen in the modern age?

Or ever really?

 You don’t need me to tell you it has been the most extraordinary week, so I wanted to take a bit of time to put a marker in the sand, before it too slips away. 

Going off piste from my normal theme of healthcare improvement, to share a few thoughts about the death of the Queen, my Mum, the war, and how it has all affected me personally.

I hope it resonates with you – I would love to hear what your own thoughts and experiences have been, particularly perhaps how these might be different for people of different age groups. 


Lemon lightbulbs 🍋💡🍋

  • Rest in peace, Your Majesty. You have done more than anyone could have expected of you
  • I will raise a glass of Prosecco to you and my Mum – you both deserve it!
  • I hope Mum and the Queen are raising a glass of Prosecco together now -  #NoHierarchyJustPeople
  • It's important to learn about our past so that we don't keep repeating the same mistakes
  • Value older people and all the wisdom and experience they have to share
  • Look out for the delayed social media coverage of our #MatExp Whose Shoes workshop in Oxford
  • Keep calm and carry on – and think how we can each follow the Queen's extraordinary example

Links

Episode 24 - ‘Mum’s 100th birthday’

In the shoes of Gill's Mum

A life well lived
#FreeGillsMum

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70 years of continuity.

How often does that happen in the modern age?

Or ever really? 

You don’t need me to tell you it has been the most extraordinary week, so I wanted to take a bit of time to mark this in the sand, before it too slips away. I feel as if I need a bit of a constant in my life, and I expect other people feel the same.

 I am very sad about the death of the Queen. Well, like everyone I have a mix of emotions. I think the idea of dying apparently pretty suddenly, at the age of 96,in your favourite place in the world, (the Queen’s beloved Balmoral), is actually pretty awesome. The loss is ours and not hers. And I am mourning not only the Queen, but I think even more so that whole era of steadfastness, selflessness and putting others first.

 These feel like old-fashioned values these days.

 And to be honest, It feels like losing the last tangible piece of my mum. The Queen reminded me of my mum, or perhaps it should be the other way round? These two awesome women were very similar in many ways.

People talk about the Queen being ‘privileged’, and of course she was in terms of money and material things. But was she in terms of the dice that she was actually thrown in life?

I wouldn’t choose that lifestyle, and the total lack of normality. Not for all the tea in China (I guess that’s another old-fashioned expression… for me, perhaps the Apple announcement of the latest iPhone would be the equivalent … also this week, but I digress.) I’m glad the Queen had somewhere to slob out, wear an unglamorous rain hat, and to be a human being.

Change. I think about change a lot on this podcast. There is so much change in society, in everything. 

But I have also been fascinated.

Learning how the modern era does something like the accession of a new king. SO much pomp and tradition, but fast forward from 1952 to the social media era and the social mores of 2022. The blending of the old and the new. The ‘how we have already done always things around here‘ with ... woah! The Queen’s love of horses, The beautiful steady horses pulling the Queens great-grandchildren in the fabulous Jubilee celebrations not so long agao (thank goodness we were not robbed of that lovely memory!) and the wild horses of today’s social media – uncontrollable.

Nobody got to see the accession of Queen Elizabeth the 2nd, as it wasn’t televised, it was all behind closed doors, and indeed people hardly had televisions in those days.

People scrambled to see Queen Elizabeth’s coronation the following year, either buying a little television for the first time, or going round to a neighbour who was lucky enough to have one, watching the ceremony together on a tiny black-and-white screen.

After a week in which we have already had a new prime minister, and a cabinet thrown together quicker than one from IKEA, I was thinking the death of the Queen would leave a huge void.

I have been deeply impressed and somewhat comforted by the feeling of continuity in the royal family. ‘The king is dead; Long live the Queen’ was something I heard about in my childhood.

And now we are witnessing it first hand, but the other way round.

Okay, they have had 70 years to practice it and all the scripts were written, but to pull together the pomp and ceremony and seamless brilliance of the accession ceremony I watched on TV, makes me a little bit proud to be British and to feel at least a glimmer of hope. 

I haven’t felt much pride in being British for a long time, and we all need hope and are trying to hang onto a bit of stability In these deeply troubled times.

So for myself, as much as anybody else, I wanted to capture this unique moment in time, and a few random thoughts, while it is all so vivid and surreal.

I guess with my Whose Shoes brain, I am always fascinated by observing people and life. Seeing how it all pans out, from different perspectives.

With my classical education - I studied Latin and French at University- I am fascinated by the human side of history, so loads of thoughts and memories have been going through my mind. Stuff I haven’t thought about for years!

In my very first job as a public servant, working in social services, I was heavily involved with emergency planning, and specifically the emergency accommodation plan. We had a list of suitable premises, ranging from sports centres to day centres, that could be used in the event of different types of emergency. I found it really interesting thinking through the different scenarios of what we would need to do.

We designed forms to record people’s names and details. We had lists of phone numbers, roles, duties and responsibilities, location of megaphones and such like, and we had no end of contingency plans. We kept it all in an emergency box. There was nothing digital in those days. And that was the late 70s.

Princess Elizabeth became queen back in 1952, before I was born. Before 94% of the global population was born. That puts it in context. 

Thoughts like this have been swimming around in my brain, as I try to get my head round just how long it has been since there was a new monarch, and all the plans and processes that must have been put in place to maintain the continuity and legal requirements of the constitution.

What plans did they have? How often were they revised? How have they been honed and updated over time? Whose job was it? It has been fascinating to discover the answer to some of these questions over the last few days.

Did you see the ceremony?

The new King Charles has to say ‘approved’ on multiple occasions as Penny Mordaunt, who has been in post for about four days and did an awesome job, reads incredibly important oaths and proclamations. Instruments are signed, as the Duke of Cambridge adjusts the position of the inkwell and they all negotiate complicated logistics with pens. Instruments are played as the trumpeters mark the occasion. There is a formal announcement of guns in Hyde Park and beyond. Extraordinary.

And against this background of pomp and ceremony, we are in the age of social media.

“When exactly did the Queen die?”, people want to know.

Clearly time was needed to put the long planned ’London Bridge’ operation into action, before announcing the Queen’s death to the world.

70 years ago, they would have been in total control.

This time they were in a race with social media and dealing with a very different age.

I don’t think they have released an exact time of death. It was a slow death on Thursday afternoon, with an announcement being made that doctors were concerned for the Queen‘s health and that she was under medical supervision, a bit of paper being passed along the front benches of the House of Commons,

The family all flying to Balmoral, and BBC newsreaders changing into dark suits and black ties.

And all of our lives are suddenly frozen again, and we will remember for the rest of our lives the exact moment, where we were and who we were with, when we had this momentous news.

I was not really on the ball at all. Like everyone else, I was getting on with my own life. I was planning for a Whose Shoes maternity workshop in Oxford, which had taken almost 2 years to arrange. I was travelling there on Thursday, the day before the event, and I was too preoccupied with packing #MatExp stickers and lemon lightbulbs to be following the news at all closely.

I met up with my big friend #FabObs Flo, Florence Wilcock, in Oxford. Flo had agreed to co-lead the workshop with me – after all, Oxford was where she trained as a medical student and where she was inspired to choose obstetrics and gynaecology as a specialism. I think this was a strong case of wanting to give something back.

It feels incredibly special now, that Flo was proud to show me round her old college. We had a lovely walk and a chat, starting to catch up about things that matter to us. We were in a world of our own. But as we came back to the main entrance, we saw people in small hurdles talking quietly, the flag was at half mast, the bell was tolling ominously. We slowly twigged what had happened. 

Is it hard to have such a switch of emotions and carefreeness. I think we both felt completely rudderless – what do we do now? I think the moment will stay with me always.

There was a sense of disbelief as only two days before the Queen had appointed the new prime minister with that lovely photo of her (I mean the Queen, not Liz Truss) smiling at Balmoral, wearing a cosy looking cardigan rather than the formal clothing of royalty that must be so tedious and uncomfortable to wear. 

And then the practical issue of, what would happen next? Would the workshop still go ahead? It all felt very unprecedented in terms of etiquette, showing respect, but also awareness of how the Queen embodied the ‘keep calm and carry on’ ethos. How did these various conflicting drivers and expectations fit together? What should we DO?

And clearly, the real decision was out of our hands, it was probably at NHS England or government level, in terms of some directive about what happens next. But we were worried about doing the right thing and how we and everybody else would feel about it.

In the end, the workshop went ahead. A formula was worked out that felt as if it walked this delicate tightrope in a respectful, pragmatic way. Obviously hundred people might have 100 different opinions on this, but we got together as planned, acknowledging that people might not feel able or keen to attend., and working out ways to keep them in the loop and involved as fully as possible going forward. 

We did not tweet on the day and will hold back a proper update about the workshop, with photos and all the usual energy and pledges, until after the period of national mourning. But suffice to say that it felt like an extraordinary event. It felt as if we tapped into the shared humanity in the room. It felt as though, as human beings, we needed to talk, and to talk about things that matter. There were some extraordinary conversations and I really hope that this workshop helps the maternity service in Oxford make progress and really makes a difference.

But this podcast is more about my personal thoughts and reflections, and as I say just having a bit of personal indulgence in terms of noting some of the details and nuances and celebrate the end of the life and reign of Queen Elizabeth II.

It has caused me to think back over my life, momentous things that have happened, how old I was and what I remember from then, particularly when I was a child. Some events are obvious, and some possibly less so.

At the age of eight, Winston Churchill’s death and particularly his funeral I think, made a big impression on me. I had grown up hearing about the war and the sacrifices made, not least in my own family. Winston Churchill was a hero - the leader who had seen us through to the peace that I was fortunate enough to enjoy. A state funeral. And with the death of Queen Elizabeth, we will witness this again for the first time since.

In mum’s final years, I had the privilege of recording some of our conversations. Mainly just chatting about this on that. One day, mum asked me whether i thought it was right that children think Churchill is a dog.

[Clip of Gill and her Mum talking]

 Older people have a certain knack of seeing things from a different perspective, and we lose so much when they die.

 In India when an older person die they describe it as a library burning down and I love this description.

 Let’s look after our old people, and respect all the things they have seen and done during their long lives and, as mum and I are talking about, make the most of intergenerational opportunities whenever we can.

So going back to my memories of big moments as a child…

 When I was 10, ‘we’ won the World Cup final. I used to go with my dad to watch West Ham, but we weren’t always West Ham supporters. I was a Manchester United supporter! Anyway, three of the West Ham team,

were playing in the final: Geoff Hurst, who scored a hat-trick, Martin Peters and of course the captain Bobby Moore! And Bobby Charlton and Nobby Stiles from Manchester United. I remember the excitement of winning in extra time but for me, collecting free World Cup Willie coins with petrol was a highlight . I wonder what happened to those coins! Perhaps I will find them one day in a sort out!

I was seven when John F Kennedy was assasinated and I remember seeing the images over and over, and the hushed voices in our house. But it was when his brother Bobby Kennedy was killed a few years later that I was absolutely heartbroken. I remember ruining a family day out at the seaside, which was a really special day out for me. I had a big crush on Bobby Kennedy, and cried my eyes out most of the time we were there.

 My parents couldn’t understand just how upset I was. I wrote his name in the sand with lots of hearts. I was 12.

 I have loved seeing the pictures of the rainbows over Buckingham Palace, Windsor and Balmoral. Rainbows are extraordinary things – they have appeared at the most poignant times in our family life since my mum died.

 It really feels, even if only momentarily, that they are there watching over us, only a thought away, as the vicar so memorably and helpfully said at mums funeral.

 My more scientific head can’t really get a handle on even my Mum or the Queen, having the power to rustle up rainbows to help us out and give us hope at tricky times in life. So much we don’t understand!

 So, as I say the Queen‘s death has made me think a lot about my mum. I think about her all the time, but it is good to take a bit of time out to reflect on the generations that have gone before us. I love it when we all get the chance to learn from each other – there are so many good things to take from the fresh eyes and fresh experiences that each generation brings, the balance between different drivers in life, individual and society, and how we can work together for fairer opportunities and respect for everyone.

 Flo said how much she had enjoyed the episode I recorded for what would have been my mum’s 100th birthday – again going a bit off piste from the usual focus of my podcast, so it is always lovely to hear that people are listening and enjoying it!

 I suspect the Queen had a really good sense of humour. And just as my mum lived to 95 and I was able to get the opportunity to record more of her voice on audio and indeed on video, I love how the Queen loosened up a bit in her final years say that the people got a glimpse of the real person behind the throne, and I’m sure nore things will be shared now, and we’ll get to know her better.. The lovely sketches with Paddington Bear and with James Bond brought us a whole new perspective. 

So what did Mum think about the Queen? She loved her and was proud that they shared the name – Elizabeth is my mum‘s middle name. Mum understood the Queen and her life of duty and sacrifice, in a way that I think only her contemporaries could do.

The young princess who was not expecting to be queen, almost certainly didn’t want to be queen, and then devoting literally her whole life to the responsibility and duties that she suddenly inherited.

 I think with the death of the Queen, and Prince Philip last year, it feels like my own parents dying again and somehow with even more finality. Mum died five years ago now and my dad eight years before that, but while the Queen was still alive it felt as if a bit of Mum was still there. Mum always put everybody else first. I’m not sure I know anybody who does that these days, … and indeed whether you should do. The sharp contrast with the ‘me me me’ brigade and throwing away anything and everything, including people sometimes because it doesn’t serve you immediately feels a very tricky world to live in. But I’m sure by now I am sounding very old and very old-fashioned.

 A week such as this inevitably brings thoughts of our own mortality.

Thoughts of what matters in life.

Thoughts about what makes a good end of life.

My mum’s final few weeks, including her time in Myton Hospice. 

 As someone once said at our Whose Shoes workshop with London Ambulance Service around good end of life care, a good death leads to a good bereavement for those left behind, and I think that is very true. And being as every detail of the royal family‘s lives is played out so publicly, I’m glad the queen was able to slip away so privately. Nice one!

 The Queen’s incredible sense of service and duty has left a truly remarkable legacy.

In our Whose Shoes workshops, we always invite people to make pledges. To tap into our individual passions and what matters to us, to think of something that we personally can do to make a difference.

At our workshop in Oxford, we perhaps took this a step further, asking people what they would like their legacy to be. 

 I talked about Helen Calvert - a mum in Liverpool and early #MatExp leader, who can look back and see the extraordinary mark she has made. For example, instead of just complaining about how difficult it was to establish and maintain breastfeeding on a neonatal ward, Helen was instrumental in setting up various national infant feeding networks to help new mothers. Oh, and she founded the #MatExp Facebook group, which now has over 3500 members, and is a brilliant way to keep the conversations going.

 So, we challenged people a little. What will your legacy be?

 What do we each want to be remembered by?

 The immediate aftermath of the death of the Queen has left a really bizarre mix of cancelled and not cancelled events. One local village cancelled their fete, despite it being a lovely community event that people had worked hard on for months; another village went ahead and included a two-minute silence where everyone could reflect and show their respects before having fun and splatting rats and all the things that are part of the strong feeling of tradition and stability that the Queen represented. 

There has been a lot of talk about ‘what the Queen would have wanted’.

 How to do the right thing? Luckily not my call. Just people doing their best.

 I’d like to think that the Queen wouldn’t have wanted good stuff to be cancelled because she died. 

My Mum went into work in 1942, the day after her fiancé was shot down and killed over Belgium. She said, “But Gillian, that’s what we DID in those days”, it was happening to everyone … 

 She absolutely adored Robin. 

 My parents were married for 60 years – my Dad was also in the RAF throughout the war, posted for much of the time in Burmah. It was only later in life that Mum spoke more about Robin and I started to understand what it was like when your fiance is shot out of the sky a month before your wedding. What an extraordinary generation!

 And now we have the enduring image of the Queen sitting alone at the funeral of her soul-mate, Philip. 

Duty personified. 

And we remember all the people who have died, separated from loved ones during the pandemic.

And subsequently finding out about partying in Downing Street. 

And all the shenanigans of the last couple of years. 

It is a lot to process, isn’t it?

 So, for our workshop in Oxford, it was agreed to delay our full social media coverage until after the period of national mourning - and then talk about the workshop more fully and share some of the early outcomes, as we always do.

 So, you will have to wait for that. But I’m hoping it will bring something special, a bit of a new start, who knows, as there was a really vibrant atmosphere with views and stories being shared very openly and honestly – women and families and staff coming together, #NoHierarchyJustPeople.  So, Florence and I were glad to be able to facilitate this.

 Look out for the little poignant royal corgi on the visual record produced by Anna Geyer, from New Possibilities, as a reminder of how special this event was, the extraordinary timing, and how we were all challenged to do something that helps others.

 So, as the proclamations continue, announcing the death of our much-loved Queen, bringing back a taste of a bygone era with no social media. Or even television.

 To tweet or not to tweet? That has been my dilemma and I have had a bit of a personal purdah, not tweeting for three whole days, which is pretty unheard of for me! 

 But I am now back with this podcast. I hope you enjoy it.

 So what are this week’s lemon lightbulbs? 

 Rest in peace, Your Majesty. You have done more than anyone could have expected of you. 

 I will raise a glass of Prosecco to you and my Mum – a joke I had with Mum around her 95th birthday party, which was code-named Prosecco-gate. And indeed I shared this with Flo and we raised a glass to both of you on Thursday night.

And, who knows, perhaps Mum and the Queen are raising a glass of Prosecco together now. #NoHierarchyJustPeople.

We need to keep calm and carry on – and think how we can each follow your extraordinary example.

 Anyone for a marmalade sandwich?