“What would we do without Nigel?” is a phrase that has been repeated many times over the years at Old Saint Paul’s.
Recently, we learnt that Nigel passed away, suddenly and without warning. And since then, we really have been fully living out the reality of what we would do without Nigel. The question has ceased to be rhetorical, and has now been replaced with the reality that we are very much without him.
Living without what Nigel did
We feel this in so many ways. He did so much for the church. He was reliable. You could depend on him to do anything he said he was going to do. He always responded promptly to emails. He had a strong eye for detail, whilst at the same time, was able to do so much, apparently with little effort. He was competent and knew so much more than I ever will.
If I ever had a question about liturgical or church history – or even which platform my train was going to arrive on, he would reply straightaway with an answer. He would often proofread for me and would find something I had missed. He was usually correct about most things – but not necessarily always.
Living without who Nigel was
We would be in touch during the week. It was usually fairly light-hearted conversation, ranging in topics from what was going on in the Anglican Communion, discussion of Church Times articles or announcements, to what was happening in politics. With a wry smile, he would tell me on a fairly regular basis, that I both look like, and fancy, Ruth Davidson. He knew of my admiration for Sue Perkins, but this did not dissuade him. I would tell him about train programmes I had found and thought he would enjoy.
I would also see him often at various church meetings – whether at vestry, Diocesan Synod or our communications group. I would have lunch with him and others on Sunday and join the odd train trip out, and he was a reliable companion at Studio XIII. We would sometimes meet up for a coffee or drink.
Living without a dear friend
It is only with his death, that I realised how he has been such a major part of my life. And how much depth of love I had for him. Despite the odd falling out – there was that steadfast bond. And I know that he had many of these loyal but understated close bonds with those around him.
When we lost Nigel, we lost someone who did so much and was always around. Except one day, we became without him. More than losing someone who was just highly reliable and efficient at everything he did, we have lost a dear, dear friend. Someone who was always, and would always, be here.
We can do without what he did, but we cannot replace who he was, here on this earth.
Nigel – in case you’re reading this, I’m sure you’ve got everything sorted and organised up there. And you may see us doing without you – possibly not how you’d go about it – but we do very much miss you and love you.
Rest in peace, and rise in glory, our dear friend.