Memories of Dad come in all different ways. Sometimes based on where you are, who are you're with. One memory always comes to me when I listen to a particular song. Dad used to indoctrinate us boys with his music from a young age. One of his favourites was Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield. A really long song that goes through all different styles from haunting to dramatic. Dad was always great with evoking our imagination through stories and for this song and each of its stages he would tell us a story of what was going on within the song. I can't remember all of it but I do remember one part had a giant robot coming for you (the dramatic part) which had us running and screaming as he'd act it out.
Sent by Martin on 11/02/2018
Dave has always been a part of my life, my cool older brother. There's a gap now when I think of the four of us "children" and realise we are now three. We used to have fun growing up, train spotting, going over the fields. Dave was often the ringleader. Later, as a teenager, his friends became my boyfriends.
When he was working in London, he used to stay at the flat with Mike and me. He was always good fun and loved playing with the children. They remember him as a part of their lives growing up.
Every now and again our families would meet up, baptisms, weddings and general days out. In the last few years, we've also got together at Christmas to exchange presents and mull over the past. And of course, there are the lovely parties that Dave and Brenda gave in their garden.
One little story that always makes me laugh... Dave bought a racing bike and joined a club. They were all experienced but he was just a beginner. On one outing, he pedalled up a hill getting slower and slower and when he reached the top, he could go no further and just keeled over. His feet were strapped into the pedals. Good old Dave.
Sent by Gill on 15/10/2017
Extract from a poem by Henry Scott Holland
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
Life means all that it ever meant; it is the same as it ever was.
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Sent by British Lung Foundation on 01/09/2017