My father passed away suddenly on August 15th of a heart attack. After the initial grief, memories came flooding back of the man who raised me and who I have loved and respected for nearly 60 years. I have put some of these down here and hope that they make some sense.

 Dad-this was the man who when you went to Mum with a small cut on your finger, would say ‘what is all the fuss about, you have nine more’. I have used that line on my own son several times.

 Dad-this was the man who rarely lost his temper with us. He did not need to as when he told you to do something you did not answer back. We never thought of doing so to be honest. He was the boss in the house and that was that.

 Dad-the man who did all his own painting and decorating for many years and would make cupboards and shelving to save money and because he could and enjoyed it. I used to help him with the painting and decorating when I was a young man and the skills he taught me stood in good stead when I had my own to do years later.

 Dad-the man who took me on my first driving lesson when I had just turned 17. I was going to evening college and he bought out a pair of ‘L’ plates and said, right you can drive there. Well I got there without crashing the car and with a lot of lurching and mistakes. After that he took me out and taught me to drive for about a year and passed on the love of driving that I still have today.

 Dad-the man who after I had passed my test and was going out with Mary would lend me the car when I asked him for it. He would grumble a bit and I would get,’ make sure you put in the petrol that you use’. But he never refused me.

 Dad-the man who was as pleased as a dog with two tails when we had Mark but still went into the hospital with a pair of scissors because ‘he wanted a granddaughter’. Mark our son was the apple of his eye for many years and he and mum loved to have him around there house when he asked to stay.

 Dad-the man who when I asked him could he think of a way to put a small cupboard in Mark’s room in a alcove that was there, built a cupboard from floor to ceiling and made a damn good job of it. It is still there now and still being used.

 Dad-the man who when my other brother Martin met Mandy and they had Katie his first Granddaughter, must have felt his world was now complete. He adored her and the others that came after, Christopher and Hellen. Christopher was named after my brother Christopher. He was killed in a road accident just before my 21st birthday. A terrible time and that was the one time I saw Dad on the edge of a breakdown. I had Mary to lean on and she was there for my grief as she has been now.

Dad-the man who was in the war in Burma and was a member if the Burma Star association for year and was proud to do so. He never spoke much about the times he had in the war but could still over 60 years later get very emotional about it. He was presented with his own Burma Star on Mum and Dad’s 50th anniversary by a comrade that was in Burma with him. That was a very proud moment and one he never forgot.

 Dad-the man who was married to Mum for nearly 61 years and loved her for all of them. He would never say a bad word about her and would never hear one said either.

 Dad-he was just Dad. We all have Dad’s even if today a lot of children do not know them. I have been blessed with a great Dad and when it comes to parents have had a great couple. Just writing this down has bought the memories flooding back and made me realise what a lucky man I have been to have such a great father. I am certain that when he reached the ‘Pearly Gates’ would say ‘Peter your gates are beginning to squeak a bit mate. Just give me some oil and I will sort it out’.