‘We made a pact to remember Michael by eating together’

A year to the day after Michael’s death on 5th June we marked the sad anniversary with a big family gathering.

There were lots of tears, of course, but my strongest memories of that day are of laughter and silly teasing banter as we exchanged stories about the gorgeous crazy man we all loved – and missed - so much.

It seemed perfectly natural to get together to eat, drink and josh about, just as we had always done, and there was huge comfort for me in having all the people I love most in the world around me. It’s exactly what Michael would have wanted.

Eating together as a family, with our four children Alex, Jack, Dan and Kate, is something we’ve always done, something Michael and I both felt very strongly about as parents, and is, coincidentally, the subject of my new book.

I don’t recall much about those early months after he died. I think I drifted through the shock and upheaval. The kids must have organised some sort of ‘mum rota’ because every few days one or other would appear on the doorstep with food. It is incredible how they pulled together so seamlessly.

The whole situation – the five days that Michael was missing, finding his body, the weeks that followed – was terrible, but it was no one’s fault. There’s no one and nothing I can blame.

However much I desperately want Michael to be here with me, I have to accept that he isn’t. And life goes on. I put one foot in front of the other and try to find the positives in everything if I can. I think it really helps that I don’t feel angry about losing Michael. I know anger is supposed to be part of the grieving process, but I just don’t feel it.

I’m not even angry with him for making the daft decision to walk back to the villa in the middle of the day during a 40-degree heatwave. That was Mike! That was the package. I used to get so cross with him for doing silly things like riding his bike without a helmet, but I learned, over our many years together, that his sometimes-impulsive behaviour was all part of what made up the loveable maverick he was.

None of us had any idea, though, the extent to which Michael had become a such a widely-loved figure. Everyone felt they knew him. It was extraordinary. But it hasn't been easy. Sometimes the sadness will catch me unawares and when I’m least expecting it. I’ll been out walking in the countryside and suddenly think I see Michael in the distance striding up the next hill – then I realise it’s just someone who looks like him or walks like him, and I well up.

The pain feels physical. But those moments are brief. You move on. You have to. Grief is a tricky state to navigate, and I suspect I haven’t really scraped the surface of my bereavement journey. It’s been over a year, but I ‘m still adjusting to being on my own.

On the one hand, I have finally worked out how to work the TV properly, and I can now get myself safely through an airport. When we travelled together (which we did frequently) Michael took the lead and I had the luxury of being able to trot along behind him, blissfully oblivious to all the logistics. Now I have to find my own way and I’m doing ok.

It’s slow progress: I only just realised that I’m now edging across from ‘my’ side of our big double bed to take up a bit more of the space we shared in the middle. But being able to throw myself into work projects has helped give direction to my days.

As a family we are keen to continue Michael’s passion to improve people’s metabolic health and to promote his legacy by raising funds to set up a clinical research fellowship in his name. The aim is to continue research that embodies Michael’s mission to help people live longer, healthier and happier lives.

It has also been good for me to throw my energies into putting the finishing touches to the parenting and nutrition book I’d been researching and planning for years.

Michael and I often talked about the importance of family meals, and our concerns about this lovely ritual of cooking and eating together was slowly slipping away. He, like me, was convinced that eating together was one simple thing that really benefits family dynamics, as well as increasing awareness and consumption of healthy food.

I was working on my book Eating Together when Michael died and when the publishers asked if I was ok to keep going, their gentle nudging felt like a lifeline to help pull me out of the deepest sadness.

Completing the book has been part of my healing process; finishing it became a source of strength and purpose in the months that followed his death. Having that focus, sense of continuity and connection with Micheal was important to me.

My work as a GP over the years has given me an insight into the challenges many families face. It motivated me to take parenting courses and ultimately to work with Stephen Scott, a professor of child health and behaviour at King’s College London, to create an online parenting course (parentingmatters.co.uk).

So while I was working with Michael to create and test delicious, nutritionally balanced recipes for his Fast800 plan, I was quietly compiling a notebook of family meals, thinking all the time about how children could get involved in food prep so they could expand their taste repertoires and learn to love good, healthy, home-cooked meals that are easy and fun to help prepare. That’s how the idea for Eating Together was born. It is packed with hints, tricks and expert advice to get children involved with cooking, to lure them away from their screens to join you at the table.

I know only too well how hectic life with young kids can be. It’s so easy for the opportunities to sit down together at mealtimes to be squeezed out, and it’s so much harder for parents now than it was for us. There are so many more temptations. Parents are under such huge pressure. But once children reach an age when you can eat together, it really is a worthwhile habit. It really does make life easier.

There’s growing evidence to show that families who cook and eat together are more likely to eat healthily and that it provides an important, safe, predictable time for family members to connect, repair relationships and have fun. I was passionate about getting that message out. Michael was very supportive of this book and he thoroughly enjoyed testing all the recipes!

Family mealtimes had been a very important part of both our upbringings and it seemed natural to want to repeat that pattern with our own children. Those are such wonderfully warm memories – everyone around the table, laughing, chatting and fighting to get a word in edgeways.

Even when they were tiny the children helped in the kitchen, preparing food and experimenting with recipes. Then they would often negotiate the various tidying up chores between them - although Michael might try to slip away after the meal on the pretext of work to avoid the washing up.

That’s why it felt perfectly natural to fill those difficult first months after Michael died with big family meals. We managed our first Christmas without him together, sharing stories and occasional tears around the lunch table, and we have made a pact to remember the anniversary of his death each year by eating together.

The magic in eating together isn’t just in the menu. It’s in the moments. Sitting at the same table means sharing more than food. It means connecting, sharing stories, laughter, eye contact and problems. The effects can be powerful and far-reaching. They certainly have been for my family.

I’m incredibly proud of our children and so grateful for their all-enveloping love and support through what we’ve been through. I believe all those shared family meals we enjoyed together over the years laid the groundwork for the wonderful adults they’ve become, and the huge help they have been able to give me.

I certainly believe our habit of cooking and eating together helped to bond us very tightly as a family, and I hope they will keep up the tradition with their own families when the time comes.

The irony is I’m the one eating alone now. I’m so delighted when the kids drop in and I’ve taken great joy in inviting friends and neighbours over to join me for informal meals.

I also decided to get a puppy – a delightful little cavapoo ball of fluff we’ve named Biscuit. He’s great company, a joyful distraction, and the prospect of puppy cuddles is another prompt – if the kids need it! – to come home and join me at the table.

5 key reasons to eating together

1. Health.

Even if you’re not particularly focusing on eating healthily, frequent family meals are associated with higher intakes of fruit and vegetables and lower intake of fast food and takeaways. Children who grow up having family dinners tend to eat more healthily and have lower rates of obesity in adulthood.

2. Connectedness

Each meal eaten together is quality, ring-fenced family time. It is a space to chat, connect and build relationships.

3. Happiness

Studies show children from families that eat together not only have better vocabularies and do better at school and are less likely to have anxiety and, as adults, fewer mental health problems.

4. Help.

Get everyone playing their part – planning meals, preparing food, setting the table and clearing away) – and they will learn lifelong skills and healthy habits – and being useful little helpers in the meantime.

5. Less fussy eating.

Preparing one meal for everyone (rather than indulging individual likes and dislikes) exposes children to new nutrients and flavours and builds the confidence needed to feed themselves independently.

Eating Together — A Recipe for Healthier, Happier Families. By Dr Clare Bailey Mosley and Professor Stephen Scott, is published 11th September 2025 by Short Books, £20

To donate to the Michael Mosley Memorial Research Fund which will support urgent clinical research into metabolic health go to justgiving.com/campaign/michaelmosleyfund

Clare and Jack Mosley are joining us at this year’s Good Housekeeping Live, taking place 12-15 November at The Business Design Centre, London. To book your tickets, visit: goodhousekeepinglive.co.uk