In Memory Of My Dad

My dad died suddenly on the morning of June 16th this year and I'm still struggling to come to terms with it all. Every day is difficult and is just about getting through the day. I had wanted to write a poem but the words just wouldn't come so I thought I'd share the eulogy I plan to have read at his funeral next week. I've adapted it slightly for this medium.

Peace dad ....you were and always will be a legend


Eulogy To My Dad

Trying to think of a few words to express what my dad meant to me has been virtually impossible. We’re talking about 47 years of memories condensed into a page or so of A4 paper ….ridiculous, but I had to say something and just hope these few words do him justice.

My dad and I probably didn’t have a great deal in common as we were very different as individuals, though we could always have a bit of banter about things as we both liked to wind each other up. Over the last couple of weeks, my mind has been flooded with various memories I’ve got of my dad, things that I probably havent thought of for years and maybe seemed irrelevant until recently. Anyway I’ll just mention one or two things, just small memories that make me smile:

Mum and I were trying to think of one of his favourite songs and mum just mentioned Mr Tambourine Man to me …I immediately burst out laughing. I remembered how we’d get it most days, and only ever the first line because he didn’t know any more words …and you’ll have to trust me when I say dad really couldn’t sing, I can just hear him now.

Anyone remember Only Fools And Horses, a UK comedy program on television? ….there was only one thing funnier than Only Fools And Horses back then and that was my dad watching Only Fools And Horses. Any of my family would tell you the same. I have never heard anyone laugh as loud & as long as dad did when watching this. I mean, it was funny and one of my favourite programmes …but half the time we’d end up just laughing at dad.

And then there were his silly windups ….the ones where he’d put on his deadpan serious face and think he was hilarious. I think some people  probably found him really funny but try putting up with that every day. It would drive us nuts and he’d often get a “Shutup dad  ...you’re not funny” from one of us.

A word that many have used to describe him is ‘uncomplicated’ …and god does that describe him well. He wasn’t bothered by politics or religion or any of the usual things that divide people and cause arguments ….he was just happy to accept things as they were and I rarely ever heard him complain about his lot. I’d never thought about that before until writing this. I’ve heard a number of funny stories about him over the last week or two both from my mum and others who came in contact with him. Having moved away from the area some time ago and not spent as much quality time with the old man as I used to, it was comforting to know that he had such an effect on so many people’s lives

The big thing my dad and I had in common was our love of sport and especially our passion for Charlton Athletic (an English football team) and there is no way I could talk about my dad without mentioning the thing which really bound us together. I was first taken to Charlton's home ground, The Valley, aged around 5 or 6 and at that age probably found it quite boring (and yes I know you’re thinking, much like now) … My mum told me years ago that I would sit on the steps of the old concrete terrace and fill everyone's shoes with gravel. Dad didn't give up though so I continued going, even when I announced in 1977 that I was a Liverpool supporter. He kept taking me to see Charlton and eventually around 1980 I was finally hooked ......hooked not on the wonderful football we were watching, I mean it was Charlton after all and we weren't very good ....but hooked on the regular boys' day out with my dad and his mates. We’d usually meet up with Martin, Tony (I remember my dad referring to him as fatty and Im not sure he liked it), Peter, John & sometimes dad's brother Brian, and take up our regular spot on the half way line, via a quick drink in the Royal Oak pub. It was brilliant …I took it for granted then but they are memories I hold so dear now.

Dad was never a great telephone person but we could chat for ages about Charlton & football ….I think the last brief conversation we had, we chatted about the previous day’s England v Italy match on Fathers’ Day. I remember he thought we hadnt played too badly. I guess at least he didnt have to sit through the other two England World Cup matches like the rest of us as he died the next day.

I travel to Charlton games from Portsmouth these days so it hasn't been like the old days for some time but it will always be very different now. The idea of dad not being there physically is just mad, although I know he’ll always be there in spirit. Whenever I sit in the North Stand at The Valley getting frustrated at yet another defeat I'll be wondering what dad would have to say. And I'll remember those days of trudging down Charlton Lane and wish we could do it just one more time. I’d give anything for that.

Love you dad