the Barry Armstrong story 1951-2025

…and then there were two

“It’s said in western movies that the good die young, and medical science has pushed life expectancy for UK males to +79 years. Barry was snatched away 5 years earlier, and I miss him lots. My own family lost twin brothers, John when he was 5 and Peter in his early 40’s, so I understand the tragedy of loss and grieved Barry enormously”

To Be or Not To Be.

That is The Question

God Only Knows

A favourite Beach Boys song simplifies relationship breakups: “If you should you ever leave me, So what good would living do me? God only knows what I’d be without you”

I reflect on Barry’s friendship, our loss, and his legacy through one pair of eyes, mine.

Like everyone else, he developed a close relationship with his mother before his birth. His Dad took him to see England win the 1966 World Cup, followed by relationships with family, and with friends at school and university.

I focus on one small part of his world.

Added to this story is the legend of my favourite bird, the male red cardinal which relates to every part of his experience, from cradle to grave, from foetus to eternity.

First Encounters and Enduring Friendship

Let’s return to Leeds Polytechnic in September 1970, where I first met Barry—a vibrant, proactive young man. I had spent the summer in New Jersey, following my girlfriend to a suburb of New York, only to fail my first-year university exams and lose my girlfriend. It was a sad summer.

On returning to the UK in September, I secured an undergraduate place at Leeds. It was in a lecture theatre there that Barry and Carl saw me registering, sporting a New York tan and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt. Barry remarked to himself, “That young Armstrong looks like he needs taking care of (I did). I’ll do it!”

Thus began a friendship that would span fifty-five years.

The picture above is me with Barry, a red cardinal bird, and Carl in the early 1970s, a relationship that was to last 55 years,

Barry was a vibrant and proactive young man.

Barry’s New Team

Next Wednesday Barry will be trialling for the football team in Heaven’s no Roker Park, but it’s an upgrade on the Stadium of Light.

Perhaps the Stadium of Eternal Light.

When I say football team, bear in mind there’s a lot of talent up there.

Immortality and Remembrance

The “Immortality” fits how Barry’s story ended. For now:

“Don’t stand at my grave and weep, I’m not there. I don’t sleep.

I’m a thousand winds that blow.

I’m the diamond glints on snow.

I’m the sunlight on ripened grain.

I’m the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I’m the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I’m the soft stars that shine at night.

Don’t stand at my grave and cry; I’m not there. I didn’t die.

Now I’ll explain why I put a red bird in the picture with Barry. It’s a male Red Cardinal.

Legend has it that male cardinals fly between heaven and earth, to reassure loved ones on Earth that their loved one is OK.

Faith and Lessons

I’m a Christian of the St James ilk. You will remember him as a fisherman who worked on the Galilee. It’s a romantic job. I come from a coal mining area in South Yorkshire, which is another romantic occupation. The reality is the opposite.

James was a man who saw experience as a no pain no gain deal, who wrote 2,000 years ago “Rejoice when you face trials of many kinds because they give you endurance”.

James didn’t mean “clap your hands and shout “Hooray”, but that you should take a deep breath and know your sad experience taught you something.

James was a cousin of Jesus. He had a fiery temper, and was beheaded 10 years after Jesus was executed

The red bird in the picture with Barry is a male Red Cardinal. According to legend, male cardinals travel between heaven and earth to reassure loved ones that their departed are well.

Brotherhood and Longing

Though Barry and I share a surname, we are not related. I wish we were, and I believe the feeling was mutual. I cannot imagine a better brother than Barry.

Hope and Progress

Medical advances continue to be made in seemingly incurable diseases. Recently, I learned of a cure for a rare children’s blood cancer. There are hundreds, possibly thousands, of debilitating diseases yet to be conquered, but one by one, they will be overcome. For Barry’s illness, the time has not yet come, but when it does, there will be a celebration in heaven—and Barry will already be there, wearing a party hat!

Last September was Barry’s Hamlet moment, when his mind chose “not to be.”

Music and Memory

I recently found myself singing “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys, harmonies arranged by Brian Wilson in the 1960s. Brian died 3 months before Barry, after battling numerous illnesses, including dementia, contracted in 2023.

Dementia: Understanding the Challenge

Many articles describe neurodegenerative disorders with symptoms like memory loss, confusion, and difficulties in speech and understanding, all worsening over time. Dementia prevents brain cells from functioning properly, affecting memory, thought, and speech. It is like a car engine in pieces on the garage floor—everything is there, but without a mechanic to assemble it, the car cannot run. It’s an analogy Barry, ever the practical man, would appreciate.

Barry was one of nearly a million people living with dementia in the UK. As the population ages, this number could rise to 1.7 million by 2040.

Origins and Endurance

I first met Barry as a vibrant and proactive young man half a century ago in Leeds.

That summer, I had followed my Yorkshire girlfriend to New Jersey, only to lose both my relationship and my university place. Returning to the UK, Leeds, Barry saw me walk into the lecture theatre, sun-tanned and in a Mickey Mouse T-shirt, and decided I was in need of care.

Wishes for the Future

After witnessing Barry’s decline, I hope and pray that 2026 will bring better days for his loved ones.

Final Thoughts

William Shakespeare’s soliloquy from Hamlet, written 325 years ago, introduced this letter: To Be Or Not To Be. That is The Question.

Again, I return to “God Only Knows”, a

g, which explores relationships and their endings: “Should you ever leave me, though life would still go on, believe me God only knows what I’d be without you.”