Brian used to come to our house once a month, where a small group of us would do all manner of weaving and allied skills, bring packed lunches and sit outside when the weather allowed,  where Brian would frequently have a tale to tell from his travels.  In the summer he’d often arrive a little early and I’d go to the car and ask him to come in.  He’d always say no and explain that he just wanted to sit quietly and watch the various animals in the garden (including too many families of destructive rabbits, whose joyful behaviour delighted him) and enjoy the blossom changing to fruit on the trees.
 
On the weaving front he was extremely knowledgeable, always very willing to help others, especially newcomers, which I experienced when I first joined the guild about 8 years ago. I was fascinated how he had taken on using a computer to design projects, which he would bring here to work on as his looms were not very portable, his projects being somewhat larger.  I don’t think any of the rest of our smaller group has that know-how.  When we get together eventually, I shall certainly miss him working at the table, chatting away or sitting outside watching the ducks over lunch.  If anyone had a weaving problem, it was invariably Brian who could offer advice or a practical solution.  He seemed endlessly resourceful.  Too late,  I realise we have never taken any photos.
 
I’m very sad for him that most of his final year was spent in such isolation.  He was a people person and sadly not suited to such a lonely state.  I don’t know if he mentioned it to you, but in a phone call during the summer, he told me the lockdown had moved him from being a firm believer in criminals being locked away,  to precisely the opposite.  He said having experienced a long period isolating,  he realised how damaging it was to anyone’s state of mind and it would never have a positive benefit, especially on people who already had problems,  because it was dehumanising.  Behind that conclusion was a gregarious, spirited, lively, imaginative man, with a wealth of memories to draw on and this year’s circumstances had imposed loneliness on him. When I spoke to him in hospital, early in his stay, he was obviously getting on very well with the staff and he made a couple of them laugh as they went about their duties while we were chatting. It was lovely to hear a smile in his voice, despite his situation.  A few days later, when he was not so well, the nurse on the desk said, “oh Brian,” very jovially, “don’t worry about his mobile,  he’s awake, I’ll take the roving phone over, you don’t have to hurry.”  There seemed to be genuine rapport between them and I felt that strangely, the company that the staff offered him in hospital seemed to give him a brief respite from the solitude, for which I felt glad. Claudette