The sun shines again today on the sixth anniversary of Stoke Gifford legend Ben Hiscox’s passing. I awoke that morning to open a text from old pal Airsy to tell me Ben hadn’t made it. He was injured playing for the village football team some days before and was supposed to recover. And then this. We all lost that day, a son, a brother, a friend and all round village legend. What we gained, as the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months and the months into years was a strength, a unity, an enduring love for a special human being and his amazing family.
On our village green stands a bench in Ben’s memory and just behind it a special tree under which lie his ashes. I see it pretty well every single day of my life, usually on more than one occasion, and I always, without exception, think of Ben. That big toothy grin, the fag above the ear, the betting slip, the pint in hand, that laugh. He’s still there, in our hearts, in our minds, in our thoughts; today and every day.
The village lost its favourite son and we gained a new family. Not in circumstances anyone want or expect, my gift has been to get to know Ben’s mum and dad, Gloria and Clive and his lovely sister Rachel. They really are the very best of us and on the journey of life, bumpy and pot-holed as it is, we offer them our unconditional love and friendship. We will always be there for you.
The village will always be there for Ben Hiscox, too, as his friends from the local football team have shown year upon year by remembering Ben by helping others through sponsored events and just being there. You can be heroes, not just for one day, but for every day.
I miss you brother and I always will. But you will always at the very heart of our village.
Forever and ever, our Ben.
