Special memories of St Columba's Hospice for one couple . .

Published on Thursday 22 April 2010 10:02

St Columba's has touched the lives of many in the city. As we launch a campaign to build the hospice a new home, SUE GYFORD speaks to one couple who have very special memories of the place

AS THE champagne flowed, Allison and Paul Derighetti mingled with the guests in beautiful gardens after their wedding. Minutes earlier, they had been married in front of their proud families and close friends in an intimate room overlooking the Firth of Forth.

It is the kind of happy scene played out all over the country every summer weekend. But for Allison and Paul the day was also tinged with tragedy – rather than at a family church or carefully-selected hotel, their vows were exchanged at St Columba's Hospice, where Paul's father Vincent was dying of cancer.

Just three weeks after Vincent made his best man's speech, family members gathered again, this time at his bedside as he passed away.

Allison, 37, and Paul, 47, got engaged on Christmas Day 2006 and decided on a September wedding with 200 guests at the Capital Hotel on Clermiston Hill.

The wedding dress had been ordered, the photographer and venue booked. Their daughter Aimee, now six, and son Ewan, 12, were thrilled at the prospect, as were Paul's older children, Paul, 23, and Nicole, 21.

But Paul had always wanted his dad to be his best man, and Vincent had been diagnosed with bowel cancer. It had begun to spread through his body, and doctors said there was no hope of a cure.

Vincent, 72, the founder of Victor Paris Bathrooms, which Paul now runs, had been stoical throughout his illness. But in late June his condition deteriorated.

Paul says: "He was diagnosed for about nine months and we just thought he would get better, but when he went into the hospital the last time, the doctors said 'listen, he's not going to make it through'. He wanted to come home, but the doctors said he'd get better care in the hospice."

Allison recalls: "We had a chat to say 'do you think he'll still be here in September?', and the consensus was no. I can't for the life of me remember who suggested it, but someone said, 'How about we just do it as soon as possible?'"

So began a Herculean effort by the whole family to arrange a wedding in a day.

She says: "We phoned the registry office on Ferry Road and spoke to a lovely women there who said, 'Get down here as soon as you can and I'll get you a licence right away'.

"We had friends who dug out children's kilts, Sainsbury's iced a cake for us because I knew a guy that worked there. My sister-in-law went round getting shoes and handbags.

"I didn't want to wear my wedding dress, I didn't think it was appropriate, so I just went to Coast at Debenhams. I said. 'Can you help me?' Next thing I remember I was stood in my shower that evening having a spray tan."

The guest list for the following day, 3 July, was trimmed to just 30, and St Columba's chaplain Euan Kelly agreed to carry out the service at the hospice.

Most importantly, when the day arrived, hospice staff ensured that Vincent was ready, willing and able to be best man. Paul says: "He hadn't had clothes on for two or three weeks, so he got dressed up and spruced up and got pushed through.

"They wanted to take the bed through, but he was too proud, they got him in a wheelchair, and he did the speeches.

"He did the Footprints in the Sand poem, and said he was happy we were getting married and all the 12 grandchildren were there, and all his sons.

"When he did his speeches was probably the hardest point, when he knew it was his last speech to the whole family."

It might have been an emotional service, but Allison says she enjoyed every minute. "The service wasn't sad at all. It was lovely, it was so, so happy.

"Probably the sadness came along when we all had to go away and leave him.

"We got married at 11am and we were wandering around the grounds of the hospice with glasses of champagne and thinking 'This is so surreal'."

The hospice may have pulled out all the stops for their wedding day, but the couple were not surprised – it had been a blessing to them. The care Vincent received did not only ensure that he was well enough to attend the wedding, it also gave the family the chance to have their last, precious conversations with him.

Paul says: "The first day my dad went in, he was really ill and within two days with the medication he looked like he was getting better, and he was sitting up telling stories about the past.

"Everybody got to speak to him individually and we got to speak to him as a family."

After the wedding, it was back to reality for Allison and Paul, who live in Telford Road. They hadn't had time to buy wedding rings – he borrowed Vincent's, she had her mum's – so the day after, they nipped to the Gyle to get their own. They didn't have a honeymoon.

Aimee turned four on 24 July, and her grandfather made it through until lunchtime the next day before he slipped away, his wife and several of his children by his side.

The rest of the summer was a confusing time for the whole family. Allison says: "We had happy wedding day cards up and we had sympathy cards. Folk didn't know what to send.

"Paul was very, very upset, but his attitude was 'this is the business that my dad built up, so my job now is to keep it going'."

Like so many people whose lives have been touched by the hospice, the family has dedicated itself to fundraising. Instead of wedding presents, they asked for donations, and on their first anniversary Allison took up running.

She completed a half marathon on Sunday for the hospice in a personal best of one hour and 50 minutes.

While St Columba's might not exactly be a grand hotel, she says that, for her family, it was not a million miles away. "We never called it the hospice, we called it the hotel. It wasn't just so we didn't say the 'hospice' word – everybody was friendly, even the ladies that worked in the canteen. You don't want to come here, but if you have to, it's the place to be."

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