Connor’s headteacher and two (more) staff members saw the play last week. Sally Withey, now retired, posted on facebook, remembering ‘that call’ in her office nearly eleven years ago. She commented “and of course […] love for our Connor – we shared lots of stories of him during our day together.”

‘Our Connor…’

Connor sprinkled more than his share of stories across his school years and beyond. I don’t think there was a ‘formal’ meeting which didn’t include a right old belly laugh relating to something he’d done or said. This blog became a mechanism for capturing some of this magic, his humour, his righteous, beautiful ‘outlandishness’. Tales of teaching staff and Connor chuckling at the latest mydaftlife blog post at lunchtime, the absorption of school diary entries and more.

On Saturday, Rich and I were tromping in the peaks with Sid when the matinee was about to start. We bumped into a couple (doubling the number of people we’d seen in two hours of walking) on Revidge hill and got chatting. A semi retired journalist and headteacher. With a 21 year old autistic son now in a supported living gig after an unspeakable spell of sectioning. Talked about against a backdrop of impossible beauty, space. And sadness.

I’ve developed a Laughing Boy ritual before each performance (when possible). I listen to songs from LB’s mixtape (played to the audience pre-show), watch the #107days intermezzo and look forward to the daily show report/post-show comments a couple of hours later. Descriptions of rapturous, warm and tearful applause in the report and more detailed personal accounts on social media…

Then there are the selfie opportunities. Last night, Caoilfhionn Gallagher KC and Molly Osborne added to Michael Buchanan and Norman Lamb’s Daniel Rainford hall of selfie fame photos.

I don’t want to preempt a final London performance selfie with Lee Braithwaite and a certain silver fox… or Charlie Ives and George Julian at Bath. Let’s see what unfolds.

Tonight, listening to Chumbawamba’s Tubthumping from LB’s mix tape before the second performance of the day, I finally listened to the words spoken at the start of the song. Turns out it’s Pete Postlethwaite from Brassed Off:

“Truth is I thought it mattered, I thought that music mattered. But does it bollocks! Not compared to how people matter”.

Connor was clearly writing the script way back then.

Love him beyond words.