Saturday, 12 July 2025

My Father's Obituary

Owen Stanley Feltham was born on October 4th 1944 at 22 Coniston Drive, Tilehurst. The third of four sons of Margaret (nee Beckett, 1915-2003) and Frederick (1905-1965). 
He was named for the mountain range (itself named for Captain Owen Stanley, 1811-1850) in Papua New Guinea which, from October 14th to November 20th 1942 saw 900 men from the US 2nd Battalion, 126th Infantry Regiment, 32nd Division (Michigan / Wisconsin) cross 130 miles via the Kapa Kapa Trail. 
Parallel to the Kokoda Trail I did a Kokoda Virtual Challenge for his 80th birthday... his life might've been quite different if he'd been named 'Kokoda Feltham' but 'Kapa Kapa Feltham' is not so inspiring - overall I think my grandparents made a good call! My dad was proud of the associations with his name but contradictorily annoyed by the anything re: America in WWII.

Owen's school life was not great. He struggled academically, possibly suffering with difficulties in literacy failing to keep up with his intensely enquiring mind. A particularly cruel teacher knocked his confidence for decades to come and he did not start reading for pleasure until his fifties.

He left school with no formal qualifications as he passed to a trade school and trained as a bricklayer. An ambitious Slytherin he attended night-school in his twenties and qualified as an estimator, in which role he remained for the rest of his working life. 
At the time of the 2011 Census he was astonished to discover his vocational qualifications were considered equal to two-thirds of a university degree - putting him at the same level as my mother, a situation that for all his brains he simply couldn't wrap his head around.

In the early 70s he began a relationship with Janet Speller - who he met through family. They bought a house together in Roslyn Road, Woodley and a Chocolate-Point Siamese cat named Guinness ('Guinny' c. 1975-1990). He was the 'planned child', I was rather less so when I came along in March 1978. I loathed my birthname but was always called Heggie for reasons no one has ever been able to recall; I have been calling my dad 'Pogsy' since the early nineties for similarly long-forgotten reasons.

In 1981 we moved to Tilehurst and then in 1984 back to Woodley. This final house required a lot of work - and fortunately my dad's work in the building trade meant lots of leftover materials that would otherwise be sent to landfill. For this reason that final house, Sunnyside, has an eclectic selection of garden walls, raised beds, etc. made with many odds and ends my dad took a fancy to. His last construction projects were in 2024 - which he liked to blame on me - and he was still dreaming up more things to do.

My mother enjoyed travelling so my dad got to see a bit of the world, if somewhat out of his comfort zone. In earlier times he had enjoyed the odd walking holiday but was far more of a homebody by nature. 
Aside from many European destinations he visited North and South America (USA & Venezuela, respectively), Africa (Tunisia), and Asia (including four trips to India).

Between the mid eighties and their deaths in 2000 my dad helped care for my mum's parents. Despite being no more than housemates by this time, and never having considered her family as his family, he mucked in whenever necessary.

Owen met the love of his life, B, in 1998. She was a very good influence on him and made him a lot more bearable to be around. Sadly she couldn't commit to the relationship but they remained close to the end of his life.

I became a single teenage mum when my daughter Erin was born in January 1996; and my parents became grandparents again when I had her sister Kathleen three years later. My parents were less than thrilled but forged good relationships with my daughters and they enabled us to have holidays and put money aside for their university costs. Erin graduated from Winchester University in 2017, the same year I attained my degree from the Open University. Kathleen graduated from Swansea University in 2021 and is shortly to begin her teacher training. I hope we've made him proud.

L-R: Janet, Kathleen, Heggie, Erin, Owen - Heggie's graduation, 2017


I moved back to Woodley in the summer of 2017 (ahead of the move my dad made an appearance in this shed-building clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vm7sWXiq0o ) and on Monday 16th April 2018 my mum suffered a severe stroke, unusually affecting both hemispheres of the brain. Despite having separated in 2004, and having not been 'together' for many years before that, my dad was fundamental to her care for the final years of her life. He not only took care of essential bills so I was able to give up work and care for her until the end but lifted her so we could take her out for walks, sat with her for hours upon hours, even helping with personal care when she became so incapacitated I could no longer manage alone.

Owen with Janet, for her 80th birthday in October 2024

When my mum died, on Valentine's Day 2025 at the age of 80, my dad had not seen her in almost a week as he had caught my 'flu. My dad previously caught the 'flu in 2003 leading to several years of poor health as he battled post-viral fatigue so, at 82, we weren't too alarmed that it knocked him for six. Just ten days after mum passed he was looking particularly unwell however, and I said "I'm going to have to ask: are you having a heart attack?" He said 'no' but went to the GP to get checked out, just in case... He was diagnosed on the spot with Atrial Arrhythmia (BPM fluctuating 100-150 at rest) and was referred urgently to the hospital.

A week or two later everything went squiffy and we ended up in A&E where a doctor casually told him that he was suffering from TMB (Too Many Birthdays) and was in Heart Failure. In his defence, I think he assumed my dad must already know. It seems that it's relatively rare to just jump to that level of illness without years of prior symptoms yet in the first half of 2024 he'd had a whole battery of tests which had shown no red flags at all. Although he was clearly getting older he'd been fit and active - lifting mum, digging the garden, messing about up ladders...

Acute Care and the Virtual Acute Care Unit at the RBH tried all the combinations of medications to bring down his heart rate but it remained stubbornly at 117 BPM - like running, day and night, leaving him breathless and exhausted. At the same time he was suffering from low blood pressure making him constantly dizzy. A fit and active man he found his ill health very difficult to cope with. To the end he wanted to be out digging his garden. In fact, barely a week before he died he decided to 'help' plant mum's memorial magnolia tree!

The urgent referral to Cardiology initially led to nothing. We were never told the prognosis but we have enough smarts that we could figure out what they weren't saying; Doctor Google told us the rest. My dad put his affairs in greater order (he had always had things in good order but an issue with his will was spotted when we were sorting out my mother's estate) and I put my plans to get back to work on indefinite hold. 

We'd basically had a few weeks of relative normality after my mum's death before finding out we were going to lose him shortly too. What's really difficult is that before he went sideways he asked me how long he had; my mum's parents passed in quick succession (83 days) as did her grandparents (13 days). He even had me work out the dates he had to surpass - February 27th and May 8th. I even added the difference (70 days) again - 17th July... except I messed up the maths (so on-brand for me) and got June 27th.
When he got sick dad thought he'd go on Father's Day (15th of June), I plumped for Independence Day as it sounded apt for being orphaned, and Erin got the heebie-jeebies about the 8th of July. 
Despite Stage 4 heart failure having a life expectancy of 6-12 months somehow none of us imagined we'd get anywhere near that long... and they never actually admitted to it being that bad. Less than a fortnight before he died they'd said it was Stage 2 to Stage 3! It's a good thing we do Google or we'd have been even more caught off guard.

Eventually, and to our great relief, they got him booked in for a cardioversion - a procedure to essentially shock the heart into a regular rhythm, which may also improve cardiac function - scheduled for 8th of July.

Ahead of the procedure he came down with what we took to be heat exhaustion (which I was suffering with at the time) and he was struggling desperately in the heatwave. A few days later, exactly a week before the cardioversion, we realised he had a UTI - I called out an ambulance but they didn't take him in, opting instead to liaise with the GP and get him antibiotics. Bizarrely, and perhaps ominously, the paramedics took his BP & BPM which were reading as perfectly normal. Three days later he was gone. I had to call and cancel the appointment because, while the system gets updated immediately, appointments already scheduled aren't automatically cancelled.

From the first sign of trouble to the end was just 130 days. After mum's nearly seven years we're reeling from how fast it all happened.

Owen Stanley Feltham passed away around 6am on 4th of July 2025 at the age of 82.
He died peacefully at home, well... my home. He'd wanted to pass in his own house but he accepted being here as a compromise when it became unsafe for him to try to manage alone.
His cause of death was given as Urosepsis, with heart failure as a contributing factor.

He is remembered by partner B, daughter Heggie, granddaughters Erin and Kathleen; brothers Fred, Peter, Graham, and sister-in-law Elaine; a niece Kay and nephew Carl as well as their partners and children.

My dad enjoyed property shows such as Escape To The Country, true crime shows and gentle whodunits such as The Brokenwood Mysteries and Death Valley. His musical tastes were varied; he played Rod Stewart in the car, enjoyed the video for Good Charlotte's Girls & Boys, had a soft spot for Willie Nelson's version of Always On My Mind, and sang You Are My Sunshine. He loved his homegrown fruits and veggies and was surprisingly partial to strawberry milkshakes.
He had an extensive collection of hippos and hoarded pieces of wood, followed Reading FC, and in his last weeks finally got around to enjoying the suntrap he built maybe 30 years ago.

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