Family bonds are complex threads that weave through our lives, often becoming most visible in their absence.

In this deeply moving episode, I sit down with Andy to reflect on the life and legacy of his younger brother Simon, who passed away unexpectedly from a heart aneurysm nearly a decade ago. What unfolds is a conversation full of raw vulnerability and genuine reflection, revealing the profound impact one seemingly ordinary life can have on countless others.

We begin with Andy’s earliest memory of Simon’s birth at home in Leeds, where he was just five years old, witnessing this new addition to the family. What follows is a warm recollection of growing up in 1960s Yorkshire—family holidaysto Filey and Scarborough, fish and chips, caravan parks—those quintessential British childhood experiences that helped shape their bond. Though separated by a five-and-a-half-year age gap, their relationship deepened over time.

A recurring theme is the educational legacy running through their family. Their father was head of science at a comprehensive school in Pudsey, their uncle Stan a headteacher, and Simon himself became a beloved PE teacher. As Andy put it, “there’s a lot of teaching backgrounds in the family.” Simon’s gift for connecting with young people wasn’t fully appreciated until after his passing, when the sheer number of lives he’d touched became heartbreakingly clear.

The funeral was a moment of reckoning. The service was so packed that people were “up in the rafters.” Andy told me, “He obviously touched a lot of people very, very closely.” It was a powerful reminder that those who speak softly often leave the loudest legacy.

Simon was the calming influence, the emotional compass of the family—someone with “no isms or ists,” who could see things from other people’s hilltops. Andy believes that some of the family rifts that have emerged since Simon’s death might have been resolved had he still been here to mediate.

When I asked Andy what he’d say if he could have one more conversation with Simon, his answer was heartbreakingly simple: “I would ask him to help me.” Even now, he feels the absence of Simon’s wisdom, rating himself “two out of ten compared to Simon’s ten out of ten” when it comes to resolving conflict.

This conversation left me reflecting on the quiet power of everyday kindness, and the enduring legacy of those who hold families together—not with noise, but with grace.