The Man Who Came to Dinner
I truly believe that people come into our lives for a reason. Some will come and go, some will stay, and some will change our lives forever. In 2005, I was introduced to a man that would change mine, and give me the confidence I needed to start what is now an award winning music school.
My story begins in 2005. I’d experienced one of the most challenging years of my life. I’d been caring for my mum since 1991, from the age of 14. My Dad passed away just before my third birthday, so growing up it was just mum and I for as long as I could remember. I hadn’t had a break from caring for mum for a long time, so it was agreed between us both that I should take a holiday with my partner Emma. We’d chosen our beloved Tenby in Pembrokeshire as the destination and excitedly drove off on our week long adventure. I’d made arrangements for Emma’s parents to check on mum every day, and the district nurses were visiting every other day so I knew she would be well looked after whilst I was away. We’d had a wonderful week exploring Pembrokeshire, and the night before we left I made my daily call to check on mum. Liverpool had beaten AC Milan in the Champions League final that night. Mum really admired hard working, passionate people who wore their hearts on their sleeves, and Liverpool captain Steven Gerrard was one of her favourites, so I knew she’d have been watching. We chatted about the match, Gerrards goal that sparked Liverpool's come-back and our holiday before saying our goodbyes.
Little did I know that would be the last conversation I’d ever have with her. We arrived back home the next day, May 26th 2005, a date I will never forget. I could see the pain in her face as she lay there. I could see she had suffered. I remember shouting, “You bastard!” and looking to the sky as if it was God’s fault that she had died. Emma quickly called the emergency services and tried to revive mum, but I knew it was too late, and told her to stop. It was at this moment I realised how much Emma loved mum and I, and equally how much I loved her. I’d never felt such anger, pain, horror and confusion. I didn't have a clue how I would get through the next day, let alone the rest of my life. A headline played on repeat in my head, ‘The Carer That Didn't Care’. The guilt of going away and not being there for her when she needed me most was huge, and still is to this day. I doubt if it will ever leave me.
Within the next seven weeks two of my best friends had lost their dad’s, Emma had lost her uncle and another friend had lost his step mother. It felt like death surrounded me. I was in such a dark place, and I just couldn’t face any more funerals. I was living it everyday, when I managed to sleep I would dream about funerals, finding mum and death in general. It was taking over my life and I didn’t know how to stop it.
I remember walking into our local post office during this time, the owner greeted me by jokingly saying “Don’t stand too close to Mark, he’s cursed”. We laughed, and I finished purchasing my chosen items and left the store. On my walk home I began to think about the words he’d used, what if I was cursed? This thought played heavily on my mind for a long time. I became anxious about death. I had always been aware of it, having lost my Dad, my godfather, my godmother and a close friend in my teenage years. As I began to think back of the people I’d lost, my anxieties grew. I spent the next few months in a haze. I don’t remember much more from the remainder of that year, but it was one I couldn’t wait to see the back of.
Christmas had arrived - my first without mum, the hardest one, or so I was told. I’d been invited to Emma’s parents' for dinner. Having lost his son, Emma’s grandad Charles (Chuck to his friends) was coming to dinner for the first time too. I’d been told he was looking forward to meeting me and as soon as we met, we had a connection. Chuck was 83 years old at the time, a hard working man who drove tanks in WW2 and later spent time in the Middle East. After leaving the army, he worked as a welder for a uranium waste factory, where he would cycle 6.5 miles to and from work to provide for his family everyday, rain or shine. We instantly began chatting, and during the conversation Chuck asked me about my guitar playing and if I would play a song for him. At this stage, I was a bedroom performer only, nobody had heard me play or sing except my mum, my best friend and Emma. I’d had a few beers with Christmas dinner and was feeling relaxed so I said “sure, what would you like to hear?”. “Streets of London” was his reply. Ironically, this is the first song I ever remember hearing as a child. In primary school we had a Welsh teacher who also played piano, and every so often she would sit us all down in the school hall and play whilst the children sang. Grandfather Clock, Three Blind Mice, the usual standard nursery rhymes you’d expect to hear, but every now and then she would play ‘Streets of London’ by Ralph McTell. This was one of my favourites to sing and quite a long song compared with the others she played. I grabbed my guitar and performed the song for him. When I had finished I looked around to find Chuck wiping a tear from his eye before thanking me for playing for him.
Later that afternoon, the topic of what I was going to do with my life arose. A question I’d been asking myself quietly and trying to avoid for some time. I had no clue what I was going to do. I didn’t want to care again, I didn’t think I could do that job if it wasn’t my mother I was caring for, so it needed to be something different. I’d left school with no qualifications after missing lots of school due to caring for mum. We’d decided that we couldn’t tell anybody how ill she was for the fear I would have been taken into care, so we hid her illness from everybody we knew. I hadn’t had a ‘real job’ since I was 19 and left to become a full time carer for mum. I’d been out of the work environment for so long. I replied with “I have no idea what I’ll do to be honest”. Chuck looked and paused for a while, before delivering four words that would change my life forever. “Why don’t you teach?” he said. I’d thought about teaching guitar in the past but it was more of a passing thought. As much as I loved playing, I didn’t believe I had the ability to teach or inspire, though I had taught a few friends to play guitar over the years. Without really thinking it through, I replied with, “I’ll give it a go, Chuck”, and so I did. Looking back now I think it was the way he delivered those four words to me that made the difference. If he had said “You should” or “You need to” or “You must”, I don’t know if I would have connected with what he was asking of me. He asked a question that asked a question, and I think that was the difference. It’s not what you say to people sometimes, it’s the way you say things that really gets your message across.
By March the following year I had set up Guitar School, learned how to make a basic website and had looked into funding to see what financial help was available. There was no funding for such a project. Luckily for me, I’d played guitar for years, it was my ‘happy place’ and a total distraction from my day-to-day. I had all I really needed to begin teaching and I had no real excuse not to try. I designed some awful looking business cards, had them printed at my local library, and left them everywhere I could, local cafes, village shop windows, notice boards etc. Slowly, I began to get some calls and my first student booked in. Things were slow at first with only one student for the first 6 months. Running a house, buying food, trying to clear mum's debt and pay for her funeral on £80 a month was a challenge that today feels impossible. There were times when I doubted if I’d made the right choice, or if the path I’d chosen would even work as a business. I’ve always had a ‘Don’t Quit’ attitude and stubbornness that mum installed in me over the years, it was her motto. Giving up wasn’t an option. Slowly my business began to grow, with more and more students taking up guitar lessons with me. I began learning other instruments to offer a wider variety of learning for my students, including piano, ukulele, drums and also began studying music production. Since 2006 I have taught and inspired thousands of people to play from all over the world. I continue to teach, curate music therapy sessions for people suffering with dementia, and deliver workshops at inspiring festivals. During lockdown I collaborated with musicians from all over the world on a charity album to support Shelter Cymru’s fight against homelessness. Most recently, I began a campaign to ensure every child in Wales has the opportunity to learn a musical instrument in school, and they have musical instruments to learn on. Chuck was my game changer. I can’t thank the man who came to dinner enough for giving me the push that he clearly saw was needed, for his subtlety, his gentleness and his belief in me. Thank you Chuck, R.I.P my old friend.