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Beat The Beast Challenge

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Each time that I think that I am getting stronger I am reminded of my frailty by being thrown into a frustrating state in which I struggle to see, struggle to speak, and with poor coordination of my movement and depth perception, struggle to eat or drink. During these neurological misfires my wife Allie has to prepare and cut up my food for me, help me to eat and help me to drink as tears of frustration well in my eyes with the intense vibrations of a misfiring brain rattling loud in my head and through my body rendering hearing and standing almost impossible too.

At such times I wonder if I will ever be good for anything. However, after a neurological misfire some months ago I realised that my final letter to my children, written many times as I deployed on operational tours during my Army service, had expanded in size and scope as the children grew in age and I started to draw on the wisdom of known authors. When diagnosed with a terminal prognosis I wrote my final, final letter drawing on and adapting the writings of Rudyard Kipling, John Wesley, the integral church, and writings from unknown authors I had stumbled on over the years, before then weaving them together with my own words in the hope that, from the grave, I might inspire and encourage the children to good works throughout their lives.

After a more recent neurological misfire, as I bemoaned the growing uncertainty of the future that we all faced in the face of national and international tensions straining further and further as the usable land for habitation and food production continued to reduce, and populations continued to increase worldwide, I realised that while there was much that I can’t do, I can walk and talk so I should use my remaining faculties to do something to try and inspire and encourage good works throughout the lives of as many as I could, rather than doing nothing, moaning about the state of the world and mourning the loss of all that I have lost in my neurological function.

So I give you my final letter to my children, adapted further for you, the wider audience.

It is 22 minutes long and will, I hope, inspire you, so do please make a large mug of tea and settle down into a comfortable chair before pressing play.

Thank you.

Yours aye

Archie.

I wrote this final letter for my children when diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour. However, as we face so much uncertainty in the world I decided to record my final letter adapted for the wider audience in the hope that it will inspire and encourage many to good works.

 

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