The sun is shining

Blue skies in Stoke Gifford as we remember the King of the Village Ben Hiscox who left us five years ago today. But it was just few days ago, wasn’t it? Not a few months? Not years. Not five years. I’m sure I saw him more recently than five years ago?

Unlike me, unlike the rest of us, Ben hasn’t aged a day. The big cheeky grin remains, the fag behind the ear is still there, the weekly (losing!) football betting slip is still in his pocket, that daft little radio is still pressed to his ear, desperately trying to find out how many goals his beloved Bristol Rovers have lost by?

Although the Beaufort is closed today, along with almost everything else, it’s still open in our memories and Ben is there, ripping the you know what out of his friends, suggesting that surely it’s your round and not his?

Ben’s special place, on his village green, marked by his special seat and tree, is a constant reminder of the great man and is as special as ever. People who loved him and people who never met him, use the chair, to set aside their cares and worries for a brief moment in time, to simply take a rest or to remember and celebrate the life of Ben.

The air is cold and fresh but the memories are warm. There are no clouds when we remember Ben. The sun is always shining. And it will always shine on our Ben. The King of the Village.