R.I.P. Albert

I was sad to learn this week about the death of Albert Applebee.  The chances are that most of the people reading this blog will never have heard of Albert Applebee.  His passing probably won’t make a big splash, or warrant any newspaper headlines.  Yet those who knew him will understand what a loss he is.

I got to know Albert during the time when I was a Minister in Doncaster.  When I first met Albert and his late wife, Nell, she had been experiencing a long period of ill-health.  It soon became clear that Albert was utterly devoted to his beloved wife, and would try and do anything to make her life a little easier.  Nell and Albert were a couple for whom everything revolved, to a large extent, around their shared life together.  Naturally, then, when Nell died, Albert felt completely bereft, as though part of his own life had been taken away.

One of the worst things one can say to a bereaved person is, “You’ll get over it.”  As someone once said to me, “The pain never fully goes away, you just get used to it being there.”  Albert found it really hard to come to terms with his loss.  Many times when I visited him he would weep gently (and always, unnecessarily, apologised for doing so).  Slowly, over the ensuing months and years he became more accustomed to being on his own.  He appreciated being a regular worshipper at church on Sunday mornings.

In his younger life, Albert had served in the RAF, and his upright bearing reflected this.  Following his RAF service he spent many years as a police officer.  I always looked on Albert as one of life’s true gentlemen (and a gentle man).  It was always a pleasure to visit him or chat with him in church.  He showed a genuine interest in our family and was delighted to be able to attend the wedding of our daughter and son-in-law, Steph and Matt (he couldn’t stop talking about it for many months afterwards!)

Albert was a rather quiet man, who preferred to remain in the background and out of the limelight.  But those who knew him realised that he was a man with a real depth of character, integrity and care for others, the kind of man for whom the term “salt of the earth” could easily be applied. 

Before we left Doncaster, Albert gave Sue and me an ornament as a leaving gift.  It currently sits on a bureau in our lounge.  Whenever we look it we will be prompted to remember Albert, a true gentleman, and a valued friend.  It was a privilege to have known him.  R.I.P. Albert.