The Quilietti Family

Alan Quilietti was born on 25th March 1960.   He was the second  son of Guilo Quilietti and Irene Park. Alan was always a private individual and worked always for his family. A talented football player he enjoyed playing for his favourite team the HIBEES for a while. He was employed for many years with British Rail. Unfortunately his health deteriorated in 2018 when he was diagnosed with MND. He very tragically died in 2020 age only 60.

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Alan  married Grace Margaret Mcgarvie whose family  is of Irish descent.   They settled in Falkirk where their two children were born

SARAH born 14th November 1991.  Sarah attended St. Mungo’s High in Falkirk.  She is also an avid football fan who plays for Falkirk  and supports her favourite team Hibernian.

CHRISTOPHER born 19th July 1995

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CHRIS’S’ GINGER GUY’ EULOGY for his dad

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While I may struggle to prove to other people that either of those are true, it’s how I feel. I’m close to both my parents in different ways and I’m sure that’s normal. I go to my mum for advice on anything from boys to clothes and I go to my dad for the post match analysis of the Hibs game and if he can remember the other half of a Morecambe and Wise bit that we’d watched 1000 times together. 

At the start of this year, my dad was officially diagnosed with Motor Neuron Disease or MND and I say officially as for a while we weren’t sure. The first time he was told that’s what his seemingly innocuous limp might be, he wanted to be sure before telling me or my sister Sarah, he and mum didn’t want to worry us unnecessarily, parents are nice like that.

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Eventually they told us what was going on, months passed, and in January 2019, it was official. By that point, I had accepted the situation, hope to the contrary seemed to good to be true. 

However, when he actually told me in the car on the way back from the airport, I didn’t know how I’d react. I was surprised to learn that I didn’t react at all, I just sort of nodded. I took the news like I had just been told my car insurance was going up.

I didn’t know what it meant, in many ways I still don’t know what it means, we kind of just take it each day at a time. Going through the process of accepting something like this is weird. For a while I treated it like saying the name of ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’ in Harry Potter, I just don’t mention it because it’s so bad. For ages I struggled to say it, I just couldn’t get it out. 

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Obviously immediate family knew, but I felt like if I told ‘other’ people then it would become real, if I kept it to myself, maybe it wasn’t happening. 

I was with mum, changing bedsheets upstairs when she just casually said, ‘We’re telling people now, so you can tell people.’ I still really struggle with telling people, there’s no good way to do it. Also there’s no reason for me to tell people, I just don’t broach the subject or deflect when home life naturally comes up in conversation.  

Dad’s primary carer is my mum, she’s the strongest person I know and their love for each other is overwhelming at times and if there’s anything I can take away at this stage of everything its that I feel the bond between the four of us has never been stronger. It’s weird to write because you can’t imagine the love for your family growing but in tough times, it does. 

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I don’t know if I’ll say more about it soon, but I wanted to write something. 

The people at MND Scotland have been amazing and we don’t know what we’d do without them.

Since the Summer of 2019 Dad has deteriorated further. In the Spring he was still getting up, making it to his bed upstairs most nights and driving in a modified car. Now he can’t stand up, we have a car that a motorized wheelchair can fit in the back of, and he can’t lift his hands over his head. I didn’t enjoy typing that. A lot has happened since I last wrote about Dad, good and bad, but a lot of the good does become tinged with sadness. But that particular feeling is becoming normal. A highlight for us all involved Dad’s one true love, Hibernian FC, he assures me he loves us all equally but I think the Hibs would win. A lifelong fan and former player, Dad raised me and my sister, along with Mum as Hibees, taking us to games and teaching us that being a Hibs fan involves a lot of trials, the occasional heartbreak and moments of pure joy. If you cut him, he would bleed green, the emerald blood would pool on the floor and spell out the words “Scottish Cup Winners 2016”. I sent an email out, in not expectation that I would hear anything back from the people at Hibs, telling them about dad and explaining his situation. I didn’t know what I was asking for, but I just wanted to ask.

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A few weeks passed and I received a phone call from an unknown number while at work, I answered; ‘Hello is this Chris?’ Yes, I said. ‘It’s Leeann from Hibs here, how are you doing?’ Before I could even think I blurted out the question; ‘Leeann Leeann!?’ A moment that my family will never let me forget. After many kind words she invited us as a family to come to a game, as her guests as well as getting the club historian to dig up anything he could on Dad’s time with Hibs. To say he was pleased, I think would be an understatement. This team is his passion, has been all his life and recognition, a nod from them, for him was a great thing. The day came, October 26th, Ross County at home. We were treated so well and so kindly by everyone we met, I was quite emotional the entire day but I don’t think shedding a tear at a Ross County game is the done thing.

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On top of it all, Dad got to meet one of his heroes, Pat Stanton. I would like to say that was a prearranged meeting, but he just happened to be at the game and dad clocked him. I went over and nervously asked if I could introduce him to Dad and he couldn’t have been more obliging, he took the time and they spoke for what felt like ages, that meant the world to all of us. Dad had a whisky and enjoyed his surroundings, he only has whisky on special occasions.

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Mum is very house-proud and when we were growing up it was common to be handed a hoover or a duster to clean with on a regular basis, something I didn’t enjoy at the time but a habit that has seen me and my sister well. So when the prospect of having the house turned upside down came up, that was worrying. I was particularly upset by this, I know Mum was too.

After a time, Dad could no longer get up the stairs so had to sleep on the couch. We had had many nights struggling up the stairs, just trying to get him into his own bed as many times as possible before the stairs were a complete write off, a lot of pulling and lifting paired with just sitting on the landing to get his strength back before trying to get to his feet and the occasional fall.

There’s now a bed in the living room where the big sofa was and admittedly it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s less clinical than we feared and Mum has somehow made it look and feel homely. Something only my mum could do.

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A Christmas at home normally involves Mum’s dinner, seeing family and presents. Every now and again our relatives from Canada. My uncle David (Dad’s brother) went and fell in love and moved to Canada some years back. We’re always happy to have them but with Dad and dinner and guests, we decided to have dinner out this year, at a local place nearby, four courses and a bar. What more could you want? Well good wheelchair access and a large accessible toilet, both of which were also included. Along with a bauble with the family name on it, a nice touch that we’ve kept and I think we’ll keep for a long time.

In all honesty, I was scared of Christmas, because it’s such a happy time and those who are sad can have those feelings amplified. I know dad cries, I think we all cry about it from time to time and I just wanted Christmas to be nice. Not the best ever or super amazing, just nice and comfortable with family, food and gifts. Thankfully, it was. I even managed to enjoy it. Something I wasn’t sure I would, the whole family seemed to have a good time and Dad, adamant that he didn’t want gifts, got plenty of gifts.

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Like the last time I wrote something down about home, I don’t know when or if I’ll do it again. But thank you for reading. Please do the following, watch this documentary about Doddie Weir, I can’t quite bring myself to watch it yet but Mum and Dad have and they assure me it’s worth a watch.

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https://thegingerguy.com/travel