Your home is Your Castle, Your Sanctuary the place you grow, make memories in it’s your dwelling, your abode, your place of safety and refuge, my hope it’s old it’s worn needs some tender loving care I moan about it my sons picked up I call it a shanties ramshackle house when I’m having a rant day so he now calls it old house wants a new house. At the same time though am lucky because this ramshackle house is my home. My brother Tim he sadly died not knowing or having that he obsessed got into vicious cycle fearing he’d be made homeless again when he died he was at a place called Cottingley Court, it was Transitional Housing for vulnerable adults affected by homelessness, addiction, and mental health he’d stayed their at crisis then he moved in to one of their flats to be assessed to determine what support he needed he was to be their at least a minimum of 6 months could have stayed up to 2 years and if warranted longer or moved to somewhere that could have offered permanent support. Tim in his mind didn’t feel safe, didn’t feel settled couldn’t make roots or settle because it wasn’t made clear he wasn’t to be made homeless wasn’t no plan no where definitive said this is your home. He once posted on his Facebook shortly after moving to cottingley court “I’m allowed Visitors” that dosent really say he saw as his home it says he saw as been in more of a inpatient or Care home, “I’m allowed visitors ” reading back is heartbreaking read I try putting myself in his shoes imagine the confusion he felt an tears run down my cheek all he wanted was one thing I moan about a place to call home, a home where he made rules a home that he opened up to his friends an family not somewhere dictated by guidelines to follow I.e no visitors after certain times cottingley court they advised offered crisis support but they didn’t an if we knew Tim was desperately struggling we’d have offered to stay with him help him make feel like his home we’d have him making the bacon butties with a brew he used make a decent buttie. He shouldn’t have resorted to drastic action he took when reaching out for help an reassurance he died broken, lost, isolated and desolate in a place that was supposed to be his home. 2 days before he died he spoke his fears with his GP, his GP just listened an made him tea an biscuits, tea an biscuits is what us his family should have been having at his house when visiting or should I say a coffee as where all coffee drinkers in our family we don’t offer visitors coffee we ask them make us a coffee, help themselves to whatever open our homes up sad ain’t it my brother’s gp could only help by make a cup of tea an biscuits an for a brief moment tim will have felt the sensation , feeling like home, Why couldn’t cottingley court give him that sensation help him realise was home , reassure him wasn’t to be homeless , give him the support an care he needed an why moved their in first place, why didn’t they keep him safe, protect him they were supposed to why did he not feel safe, why did he die feeling like didn’t have a place called home it’s not much ask is it have a place that’s yours an call home.