On Wednesday 8 March I was delighted to take part in the opening of the Dab Hands Exhibition at Manchester Museum, the result of a two year residency at the museum by Lucy Burscough, that became three years owing to Covid. Lucy has worked with local communities of patients, medical practitioners and artists with the stated aim of ‘celebrating the relationship we weave with our hands.’ The heart of the project has been been the production of artworks by Lucy in cooperation with needleworkers. But there have been other drawings, paintings, sculpture, ceramics and poetry.

I became involved through the creative writing group at the Maggie’s Centre in Manchester. Maggie’s is a charity that provides support to people affected by cancer. Maggie’s Creatives, ably led and inspired by our tutor, Clare Stuart, has tapped into a potent source of writing talent that draws strength from the shared experience of cancer and the frank and supportive discussions around the writing table ‘in the room’, a phrase that acknowledges the impact of Covid and two years spent ‘in the Zoom’ around a virtual writing table.

I joined on Zoom because I live too far away in Barrow-in-Furness to experience the power of the room. My daughter introduced me to Maggie’s Creatives while she was undergoing treatment for cancer. They produced a collection of poetry, ‘Sharp Scratch’ that I reviewed on this blog. Later my daughter had her own collection, Brambles published. Since then Maggies have published a posthumous collection of poems by Andrew Rostron and a limited edition anthology, ‘In our Words’ for the Manchester Museum of Science and Industry exhibition, ‘Cancer Revolution: Science, innovation and hope.’

On Wednesday night a group of us gathered with family and friends for the opening night of Dab Hands to read some of our poems that had been inspired by Dab Hands. The upper floor of the museum was full for the opening. At Maggies we are used to sharing our work. We read to each other in the group every Thursday. But to read to a packed audience that repay your efforts with rapt concentration, followed by applause was an intense experience for all of us, especially for those who had the emotionally charged task of reading poems by Helen and Dorothy, who died before the project came to fruition.

The highlight for our family was the contribution by our daughter, Katie. Two years ago we thought her cancer was incurable and were getting ready to face the worst. But she survived some very risky surgery, and regular scans have found no recurrence to date. Freedom from cancer, like every other freedom, is only ever provisional and has to be zealously defended.

Katie wrote a poem about her recovery from surgery which she later incorporated in a pastel sketch that she made of her ribs. Her friend, Warren took her art work and printed it in poster form. Then Katie embroidered the poem into the poster. You can see the result below or visit the Dab Hands exhibition at Manchester Museum, where it is on display alongside Brambles.

The words of the poem are:

And the caption reads:

OK. I am a dad and I think my daughter is the best. But Maggie’s works for lots of daughters and sons and mums and dads and grandparents and siblings and you get the picture. So thank you to Maggie’s. You can donate to Maggie’s by following this link to the Maggie’s website.

And a thank you to Clare and all the writers at Maggie’s Creatives. You reignited my will to write and have supported me through grief and joy and made me a better writer than I ever thought I could be.

But the biggest thank you goes to Katie. One day I will find the words for you.