When I flung myself out of the plane in a tandem parachute jump, I knew exactly why I was doing it: for my son, Darren, and Keech. The hospice that had meant so much to him and our family.
Darren died aged just 43, on 2 June 2025 – the second anniversary of his wedding. He’d had bladder cancer, and watching him go through treatment was horrendous. I was determined to do something positive in his memory.
In April 2026, I travelled to Peterborough for the skydive. Strangely enough, I wasn’t even scared. I loved every second of it. I was emotional, of course, because I knew I was only there because of Darren. I raised over £1,200 for Keech, and I’m so pleased I did it.
Saying goodbye
Darren was a fantastic person, who loved life. He’d been passionate about music since he was a teenager and became a DJ, which he did alongside his job in aerospace.
He was diagnosed in 2023, after repeatedly being given antibiotics for what doctors thought was a water infection. He’d been passing blood, and I told him he needed to push for further investigations. Eventually, he asked for a scan, and that’s when we got the news every family dreads.
The diagnosis came just a week before his wedding. He asked us all to keep the diagnosis to ourselves until afterwards, because he didn’t want to spoil the day or have people feeling sorry for him.
He had a major operation to remove part of his bladder and a kidney. At first, we thought things might be OK, but a scan later showed the cancer had spread to his spine and lymph glands. He went through intensive chemotherapy, which initially seemed to be helping, but it made him terribly ill. He lost a huge amount of weight and became so sick that even the smell of food made him feel nauseous.
There were moments when we thought things were looking up. Darren was offered a new treatment through a clinical trial, and for a while, it seemed to work. His hair grew back and he was able to get on with life again.
But then another scan showed a growth on his liver, and the treatment had to stop. The doctors gave him another round of chemotherapy to try to extend his life. He made it through Christmas, but we knew we were running out of time.
The support that meant so much
Darren was able to access Keech Hospice for blood tests, infusions and pain management. He spent around two and a half weeks there, and it was a place he really liked. The staff were amazing. It wasn’t just the nurses; it was everyone, including the cleaners.
The way they spoke to Darren and treated him made such a difference. They would even make the food he fancied for dinner. They made him feel cared for, and that meant everything to us.
Darren died at our home with family beside him, including me and my other son, Adam, the two of them were so close. He misses his brother terribly. The loss of Darren has been devastating, but we talk about him all the time, and I spend as much time as I can with my granddaughter, who was also incredibly close to her dad.
Doing something for Darren
After Darren died, I kept thinking about how much Keech had done for him and our family and I felt strongly that I wanted to give something back. Coincidentally, I’d originally planned to do a parachute jump for Keech before, but it was cancelled because of Covid. This time, I was determined to go ahead.
I also lost four stone in the months before the jump. I’d been carrying extra weight for a long time, and losing it has made such a difference. I used to have pain in my knee and hip, but that’s gone now. I walk my dog and I’m always busy in the garden, so keeping active has become part of my everyday life.
The skydive was something completely different, though. It was an incredible experience, and I’d love to do it again. In fact, I’m already thinking about what I could do next. I might even try wing walking!
People might think I’m a bit mad, but I think you’ve got to do things like this while you can. And having a reason to do them makes it even more meaningful. For me, that reason will always be Darren. I can’t change what happened to him, but I can do something in his memory.
