Liverpool FC Forum

[7_Kewell]

You’re ALWAYS welcome here Karen

Day or night, you’ll always find someone here who’ll be more than happy to talk about Phil and share a few happy memories of him.

I can only imagine what you’re going through, but (and I know its easy for me to say this) it will get better in time.  You have to keep that belief and ride out this storm of emotional pain…because you will come through this and you’ll be a stronger person for it.

Stay strong and speak to us whenever you want…we’ll always be here with a warm welcome.

[CardinalRed]

Don't worry about what you post on here Karen, you've earned the right to say what you like after what you and the family are going through..... Try and stay strong and things will get better for you...

"Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart"

RIP Phil                                                       

[tommycockles]

i'm so sorry you're feeling this way karen- but i guess when you love someone so much things are going to seem so hard after they're gone- but i'm sure Phil is wishing you a happy life and willing you and your kids to go on and be as happy as you both planned.

Please keep coming on here as both you and Phil have made a big impression on everyone, and if it helps that other people have fond memories of Phil then keep coming on and sharing them with us.

[ivor_the_injun]

I lost my dad when I was 20. He'd been on the waiting list for a quadruple heart bypass for years, bumped and bumped further down as other cases needing apparently more urgent attention jumped in at the head of the queue. He finally got the operation, which turned out to be five bypasses.

After a week at the Cardiothoracic Centre in Liverpool, it was clear something was wrong. We watched all the patients around him with similar conditions improve day after day, many looking like years had been taken off their faces, while my dad just lay in bed, seemingly as ill as the day before he was operated on.

After 10 days he died.

Since then my life has basically been through the wringer. Much of the first six months was a haze of alcohol and tears, but time really has helped. The first six months all you feel is the pain of the act of death itself, and looking back at the horrible inevitability of it.

I don't know when or why or how, but suddenly a day comes when the shroud lifts on your grief. Don't get me wrong, it's still grief, but you're able to look back without your first thoughts being those painful last days. You start concentrating more on the good times, and grief becomes almost a cathartic experience. I won't pretend for a second that it's all happiness and roses, but you'll catch yourself laughing while you're crying when a fond memory suddenly creeps up on you. There'll be little chinks of light in the clouds, and with every one that breaks through, you'll feel better. You'll never get over it, but you'll slowly come to terms with what happened to Phil.

I know that it's hard, and I know that the end result will still be that Phil isn't there to hold you, but just keep remembering the times before that horrible disease started to take him. You'll miss him every time you do, but I guarantee that every now and again you'll smile, you'll laugh and you'll want to cuddle those kids so hard.

And that's another thing - talk to the kids about Phil. One thing that astonished me after my dad died was quite how much I didn't know about him. There'll be things you took for granted before they were even around that will rivet them to the spot. It's so weird to hear new stories about someone like that - it almost makes you feel like they're still alive.

The biggest lesson I learned is that grief is the price we pay for loving, and being loved. When you think of all the dysfunctional families in this world, all the wives and husbands that cheat on their other halves, all the people that genuinely wish members of their family dead... just remember that they're not the lucky ones. Imagine now what it would feel like to have someone in your life die and feel so indifferent that you'd happily go to work the next day. Although it's horrible and it's painful and it's unfair, it's a process. Please don't let it get the better of you, but at the same time I think it's worth saying that there's probably nothing that you're feeling right now that you shouldn't.

Life will be easier Karen. I wish you and the little uns all the best.

[66-1120597113]

I lost my dad when I was 20. He'd been on the waiting list for a quadruple heart bypass for years, bumped and bumped further down as other cases needing apparently more urgent attention jumped in at the head of the queue. He finally got the operation, which turned out to be five bypasses.

After a week at the Cardiothoracic Centre in Liverpool, it was clear something was wrong. We watched all the patients around him with similar conditions improve day after day, many looking like years had been taken off their faces, while my dad just lay in bed, seemingly as ill as the day before he was operated on.

After 10 days he died.

Since then my life has basically been through the wringer. Much of the first six months was a haze of alcohol and tears, but time really has helped. The first six months all you feel is the pain of the act of death itself, and looking back at the horrible inevitability of it.

I don't know when or why or how, but suddenly a day comes when the shroud lifts on your grief. Don't get me wrong, it's still grief, but you're able to look back without your first thoughts being those painful last days. You start concentrating more on the good times, and grief becomes almost a cathartic experience. I won't pretend for a second that it's all happiness and roses, but you'll catch yourself laughing while you're crying when a fond memory suddenly creeps up on you. There'll be little chinks of light in the clouds, and with every one that breaks through, you'll feel better. You'll never get over it, but you'll slowly come to terms with what happened to Phil.

I know that it's hard, and I know that the end result will still be that Phil isn't there to hold you, but just keep remembering the times before that horrible disease started to take him. You'll miss him every time you do, but I guarantee that every now and again you'll smile, you'll laugh and you'll want to cuddle those kids so hard.

And that's another thing - talk to the kids about Phil. One thing that astonished me after my dad died was quite how much I didn't know about him. There'll be things you took for granted before they were even around that will rivet them to the spot. It's so weird to hear new stories about someone like that - it almost makes you file like they're still alive.

The biggest lesson I learned is that grief is the price we pay for loving, and being loved. When you think of all the dysfunctional families in this world, all the wives and husbands that cheat on their other halves, all the people that genuinely wish members of their family dead... just remember that they're not the lucky ones. Imagine now what it would feel like to have someone in your life die and feel so indifferent that you'd happily go to work the next day. Although it's horrible and it's painful and it's unfair, it's a process. Please don't let it get the better of you, but at the same time I think it's worth saying that there's probably nothing that you're feeling right now that you shouldn't.

Life will be easier Karen. I wish you and the little uns all the best.

Great words ivor... I can take something from that as well!Id say we all can..well said!

Phil still bettin for ya mate!

[coddy]

Be strong Karen.

Phil would want you to be strong.

All the Best x

[7_Kewell]

I don't know when or why or how, but suddenly a day comes when the shroud lifts on your grief. Don't get me wrong, it's still grief, but you're able to look back without your first thoughts being those painful last days. You start concentrating more on the good times, and grief becomes almost a cathartic experience. I won't pretend for a second that it's all happiness and roses, but you'll catch yourself laughing while you're crying when a fond memory suddenly creeps up on you. There'll be little chinks of light in the clouds, and with every one that breaks through, you'll feel better. You'll never get over it, but you'll slowly come to terms with what happened to Phil.

Nicely put

[Scottbot]

And that's another thing - talk to the kids about Phil. One thing that astonished me after my dad died was quite how much I didn't know about him. There'll be things you took for granted before they were even around that will rivet them to the spot. It's so weird to hear new stories about someone like that - it almost makes you feel like they're still alive.

The biggest lesson I learned is that grief is the price we pay for loving, and being loved.

That's spot on Ace, has really struck a chord for me and i hope also for Karen.

Thanks for sharing your feelings with us Karen. You must be an incredibly strong women to have got through these last 12 months and i know we are all looking forward to the day when you can post some happier thoughts on these boards, as surely you will.

Stay strong and let time do it's work.

Scotty x

[zarababe]

Thinkin of ya !

[mistyred]

Hope you were watchin us against Barca phil you would have been proud mate!! Hopefully we can bring it home against Manu and Barca again mate and make you proud, we will all be thinking of ya.

Karen keep the faith god bless. YNWA

[IstanBuL-FenerBaHce]

I wasn't here for a while...

i've just heard the bad news. 

R.I.P. phil.

(and i wish patience for karen)

[Novo]

R.I.P.

[jaytoothetee]

i never new phil, as i only started posting here last month. but reading phil's posts and knowing the pain he felt as he typed those words, i was truly touched. i would've been proud to have known you phil. say hello to shanks for me. YNWA

karen, all i can do is give you my sincere condolences, and just remember, phil will always be looking out for you, wherever he is

"When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.

At the end of the storm
There's a golden sky
And the sweet silver
Song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

Though your dreams
Be tossed and blown.

Walk on
walk on

With hope in your hearts

I And you'll never walk alone

You'll never walk alone."

i don't think it could be put any better than that, and i think that everyone on this forum would agree, drummerphil, your courage is an inspiration to us all, and a reminder of why we have to keep on living

RIP

[66-1120597113]

Got a bet up mate!!

I had Scunthorpe,Hartlepool,MK Dons,Morton and Kilmarnock.................Remember our 4 timers...


Walk on mate...

Phil is not and wont be forgotten!

[mrsDrummerphil]

Just to thank you all for your support, I know that there is only myself who can pull me back to reality and I am trying but its one step forward two steps back for now.  I have looked at other forums.....Widows....Douglas Macmillan...etc and although I can relate to them returning here feels like home and there is a wealth of experience and knowledge from colourfull, soulfull people I feel are special friends.

Thank you all.

xx