Back in the saddle again

(warning: this post contains RDR2 plot spoilers and may induce an adverse reaction to overuse of metaphor)

Following a lengthy, enforced break due to close family carer duties and subsequent bereavement, and after using up my annual leave for the rest of 2021 (and let’s face it, we’ll mostly all be glad to see the back of it) in the New Year 2022 I plan to return to full-time insolvency lawyer duties.

In an effort to prepare for this metaphorical re-taking of the reins, and ever mindful of the fact that this is likely to be by far the hardest transition of my working life, I have enjoyed late of an evening recently losing myself in one of my old favourite video games, Rockstar's Red Dead Redemption 2. To the uninitiated (and terminally unwilling to exercise their imaginations long enough to even try such a thing), this game follows the life and death (I did say there would be spoilers, sorry) of an American gunslinger named Arthur Morgan who is caught up in a series of events beyond his control.

I connect with the game at several levels, not least because my son Ben and I used to game together almost daily before his death in October 2021, and because this particular game is set in some of the most beautiful North American vistas which I have sampled in real life. Some of my fondest memories were formed in these locations with my father (who is now sadly in an advanced state of dementia, so only my own memories of our trips survive) and then with my wife on our honeymoon some years ago. We had planned to take our children to the Mid-West once Ben had recovered from cancer, and we will I am sure take our daughter there before too long as one of a number of things we would like to do to honour Ben’s irrepressible sense of adventure which had taken him half way around the world despite his tender years.

I also connect very strongly with the story in the game, whereby our hero – and as I play the game now it is very much Ben who I see in this role – passes his mantle on to another character, John Marston, whose life the hero has not long ago saved and put back on track. Marston, in turn, goes on to build a new life with his wife and surviving child, and ultimately to avenge his saviour by taking on the outlaws whose actions had led to Morgan’s demise. As I play the game now, I (if this is not too egotistical to suggest) am John Marston and the outlaws are all different types of childhood cancers. I hope you are with me so far!

Like John, however, I know that getting back in the saddle after a period in the wilds and hitting the trail back to civilisation again is unspeakably hard. Ranches do not build or run themselves, and tracking down outlaws requires a lot of resources, but all of it is a heck of a lot easier with the help and support of friends and family.

Fortunately, our personal and professional contact base is immense. People were there for us all the way through Ben’s 15-month long illness, and especially following his death, and the response we have had to my fundraiser for Teenage Cancer Trust (which raised ￡18,270) and so far for our research appeal known as Ben’s Legacy of Love Fund with Children’s Cancer and Leukemia Group (at time of writing up to ￡15,883 with all manner of events in the pipeline for 2022) has been phenomenal.

Likewise, I have had an excellent posse backing me up at every turn from my wonderful firm Paris Smith, and especially from my outriders David Eminton, Helen Brown, Christopher Parsons, Lucy Andrews and Jeanette Crabb. I cannot thank these guys enough for their patience, keeping me in ammunition, supplies and positive things to focus on whilst I have been floundering in the wilderness, and of course keeping the wolves and Pinkertons off my scent in the meantime. I shall be fiercely proud to ride alongside this amazing team once again as the sun comes up on a New Year.

In the past couple of weeks I have been back on horseback, taking a few tentative trots up and down and chatting at campfires with close colleagues and insolvency practitioners I have known for years, and I am now as confident as I can hope to be at this stage that - after a break with family over the festive period, and with a new profile picture and a new office space at home (fashioned out of our son’s bedroom, which we are re-naming Ben’s Den) - I shall ride out faster and fitter than before. Sure enough, some days I may put my foot in the stirrup and go up one side and down the other (as my mother often reminds me I did on my first formal riding lesson), and I may need the straps adjusting a good many times, but I am looking forward to being back on that trail again, with Ben as my spirit guide on my shoulder.

Have a great Christmas, everyone, and I’ll see you on the other side of the pass. For obvious reasons I shall not be sending professional Christmas cards this year, but instead making a donation to Ben’s Fund. I am grateful to the several colleagues who have already done likewise, and if this inspires anyone else, please feel free to contribute. The funds raised are going to hopefully prevent other families having to endure the sort of trauma we have been through, and will of course continue to go through. The aim must be to eliminate childhood cancer for good, and whilst you may say that this is a pipe dream today, remember that in Arthur Morgan’s day by far the biggest killer in the world was tuberculosis. We can, and must, at least give it our best shot.?

Ben's Legacy of Love Fund (including a donate button which will take you to a JustGiving page) can be found here: https://specialnamedfunds.cclg.org.uk/ben-pavitts-legacy-of-love-fund/