Jill Brodie, of Scholes in Kirklees, lost her husband Michael, 54, from Leeds, in 2024.
I lost Michael in August 2024. He was 54. We had been married for 20 years and together
for 25 years.
He was born in Leeds and was a very proud Leeds lad; a huge Leeds United fan. We held
his wake at Leeds United’s ground and toasted him from one of the boxes over the pitch.
I met Michael when he came out of the Navy where he’d been for 14 years, having joined up
when he was 16. He loved it. He’d been to the first Gulf War; he was proud of that, of serving
his country.
We met online, got chatting and always seemed to have a laugh. One thing led to another
and we got together and five years later got married. Michael just took to my son Tom and
brought him up as his own and to Tom, well, he was Dad. It was wonderful.
Michael was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) when he was still in the Navy. He was a radar plotter and one day realised he had double vision when he was seeing four planes and there were only two. He ended up getting medivaced from the ship and was diagnosed with MS.
As the years went on, his MS progressed. He ended up with a walking stick at first, then two sticks, then a walker, then a manual chair and then an electric chair.
At one point he was made redundant and it was very hard. He did get another job but
eventually had to give up work. I gave up my job too, to care for him.
We used to have amazing family holidays but then he couldn’t do that anymore. He always
pushed me to go away with my mum though and bought me a van that I could go camping
in. He was such a kind, caring husband. He always wanted to make sure I did things and
would ask me all about it when I got back.
When things got harder, we reached out for help and were given a care package but it was
still tough. He was a 54-year-old proud, military man, who now had strangers coming in to
shower and dress him. It was awful. I think it just got to him in the end.
One morning he went out and then I had a knock on the door that afternoon, and someone
was telling me he wasn’t coming back. My life just changed forever in that second.
It’s very hard. I miss him so much. I can be out during the day but then I come home to
nothing, to silence.
People need to be more aware. That’s what drove me to do the Baton of Hope, because if I
can help get that awareness out there, and help one person or one family, that would be so
worth it. I wouldn’t wish how I feel or how my family feels on anyone. It literally rips your life
apart.
You don’t think it’s going to be your husband or your relative but it can happen to anyone. I
understand Michael was depressed but you can’t see it written on their forehead that that’s
what they’re thinking of doing. I just think more awareness needs to be out there. The figures
are awful. There’s so much of it; it’s so sad.
But there is help out there. If people can then take that second and think ‘I will give it a go, I’ll
reach out’, maybe it’ll help change their mind. There is support out there to help them.