My Dad

I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.
Nice one Becs, I lost my Mam this week and I’m in the process of writing something. It’s not easy.
 


I’m sure my Dad thought I was a boy! My Mam was ill once when I was a baby so he said he’d take me out for the day to let her rest. Where do you take your one year old daughter? Normal Dad’s would have probably gone for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine – he took me on a tour of Roker Park!

When I was a little older, weekends were spent with my Dad “jobbing on.” Used to help him with DIY jobs or washing the car etc. Radio Newcastle would be on in the background and we’d be listening out for “it’s a gooooaaaaallllllllll” and hoping it was good news. We’d pack in about 4.30 and go and watch everything coming through on the videprinter before final score came on. After tea, he’d walk to Savacentre and buy a Football Echo and we’d read it before I went to bed.

Got a bit older still and we started going to the match. It was the old third division when I really got hooked and we’d sit and talk football for ages. Never really stopped talking football with him.

He got me interested in other random things he found fascinating – mathematics, astronomy, steam trains. Could tell many a tale about laying outside in the middle of the night watching shooting stars or the beaming grin on his face every time he stood on a footplate.

Grew up with the same warped sense of humour and we’d laugh at the most stupidest of things. We were in Sunderland museum a couple of weeks back and there was a piece of branch that said petrified wood. I said “aww wonder what that poor twig was scared of?” He went off into hysterics and my Mam groaned and said “yep, you’re definitely his daughter!” We wound her up something rotten as well. She often mock scolded us and called us a right pair.

Never really saw him cry. He was always quite a “stiff upper lip” kind of bloke. Even when his own mother died, I never saw him cry in front of me. He was so proud of me the day I got my degree. I didn’t do it the conventional way. Decided to do it when I was juggling working part time with two children and gave birth to the third one in the middle of it. He kept me going through all of it and wouldn’t let me give up. When I graduated, I wore his gown and hood. I’ll never forget the look of sheer pride on his face and the tears that fell when he saw me in the gown. Until the stroke which left his emotions all over the place, that was the only time I ever saw him cry.

He had the heart attack and stroke in India. He took bad after the 3-0 win at St James Park and blamed Jack Colback for everything! He was seriously ill and I didn’t even know if I’d see him again. Finally they let him come back in the air ambulance. The first time I saw him in Sunderland he was laying there all wired up to machines and he had the typical dropped stroke face. He just looked at me and said “eeeeh hello pet. I’ve been a bit poorly!”

The last five years have been a rollercoaster. He’s had no end of problems with his heart, lungs, kidneys and so on. We’ve had several scares in the past but he’s kept battling on. We’ve managed to fill the five years with plenty memories. Been to many places, most recently the Leonardo exhibition and the Moon exhibition at Life. Took him in the planetarium there and he was grinning like an idiot.

He took poorly last Monday and was admitted into hospital. He seemed to be perking up though. I went in on Saturday night after the match as he wanted a report on that, and again on Sunday. He seemed to be getting better and they were talking about maybe letting him come home.

Went in yesterday afternoon and he wasn’t well at all. His breathing was poor and his colour shocked me. They were giving him morphine for the pain and he was spaced out but he knew the lads were playing last night.

I spoke to him on the phone about 11pm last night. I just wanted to talk to him before I went to bed. We discussed the match and he was excited that we’re going to Wembley. He said he really fancied a pint. I told him to get himself well and promised to buy him beers to watch the final with.

Rang this morning to see how he was. He was dozing but otherwise still the same. A few minutes after that, his breathing got shallower and then he just slipped away.

He was my best mate as well as my Dad and I love him so much. I've got a pain in my heart and he's going to be a huge miss.

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I'm going to try to reply to this post when I've pulled myself together :(
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.

That's lovely Becs, so pleased you found the strength to do it.
You were lucky to have such a wonderful Dad xx
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.

I laughed at the bit about setting the smoke alarm off, and am having a few tears at the rest. What a lovely Dad xx

Nice one Becs, I lost my Mam this week and I’m in the process of writing something. It’s not easy.

Sorry to hear about your Mam @AB22 Easy Tiger xx
 
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I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.

I have to say that Becs has every right to be proud of her daughter. To stand in front of 150 strangers and read something emotional like she did was just amazing.
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.
Wonderful. Your words capture his essence to the extent I feel I knew him even though I never met him.
Nice one Becs, I lost my Mam this week and I’m in the process of writing something. It’s not easy.
Peace be with your Mam, with you & yours.
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.
Heart rendering stuff.
Haway win the cup for becs dad!!!!
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.


That is superb, a mixture of humour and emotion, he must have been a smashing bloke.

No doubt he will be in your thoughts next week, and hopefully the lads will deliver.
 
I wrote and read this out at the Church service yesterday:


My Dad. Where do I start?

This has been so hard to write because he did that many daft things. I could probably keep you here till midnight with amusing tales about him. There’s the time when I was a teen and he cut his finger badly on a corned beef tin, panicked and shook his hand so hard. I had to bandage his finger and then mop the blood off the cupboard doors, the ceiling and everywhere. Or the time he pumped in a caravan and set the smoke alarm off. Or the time we were camping and he grabbed some toiletries from a box of groceries and went for a wash. He came back complaining the toothpaste tasted awful and then we realised he’d cleaned his teeth with Primula cheese spread.

As you know, my Dad was football daft. When I was a baby, my Mam was poorly so he said he’d take me out to give her some peace. Now normal Dad’s would probably have taken a one year old baby girl for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine! He took me on a tour of Roker Park and was proud of a photo he took of me sitting on the pitch.

As a younger child, Saturday afternoons were spent doing DIY and listening to the radio for the “it’s a goooooaaaalllll” jingle and hoping it was good news. I got a bit older and he started taking me to the matches. I still wear the scarf he bought at my first match at Roker Park and I’ll be taking it to Wembley next weekend. The very last conversation I had with him was on the Tuesday night after Sunderland beat Bristol Rovers in the cup. I did ring up to ask him how he was feeling but he just wanted details of the match and he was excited about Wembley. At this moment, my Dad would really appreciate it if we could all just take a quiet moment for reflection. Let us remember that in this competition, Sunderland beat Newcastle 4-0.

He absolutely loved winding Newcastle supporters up. I’ve heard countless tales about several of you here today when he’s been giggling and telling me what he said to annoy you. He loved teasing my Mam. Once David, me and him were in a swimming pool on holiday. It was deep but there was a narrow ledge around the edge of the pool. He told us all to stand on it and say to Mam, “come in, it’s only this deep.” She stepped into the pool and went straight under the water!

My Aunty Ruth can tell so many tales about being the brunt of his childhood pranks. When he had his heart bypass surgery in India, he rang me just before the op as he needed to find out the previous nights football results. Aunty Ruth rang later to see if I’d heard anything. I said he’d gone down to theatre happy because Newcastle got beat last night. She said he was ridiculous! When I told him what she’d said, he was over the moon that he’d inadvertently wound her up!

My lasting memory of him relates to education. He juggled studying with the Open University with working and homelife to gain his degree. I followed in his footsteps and did the same juggling act with work and my children. He kept me going through this. There’s a photo of me on the screen wearing his cloak and hood on my graduation day. He was so proud that day. My two sons Joshua and James are both at university and Charlotte is doing well at school. He liked hearing how they were doing and I’ll keep his legacy going by encouraging them to do well in their studies to make him proud.

So that’s my Dad! Daft as a brush at times but much loved and will be very much missed, especially when the football results are on.



Then my daughter wrote and read this. She's only 11 - bless her!

I just want to start by saying how much of a wonderful grandad he was. He was amazing to all 5 of us grandchildren (8 if you include the 3 dogs) with his humorous “dad” jokes and childhood stories. He taught us so many tales on the things he used to do to his sister, Ruth, and what he did when Mam and uncle David were younger. I have vague memories from when I stayed at granny’s before he had his heart attack in India. He would come downstairs while I was in the kitchen with Granny and catch me sucking my thumb with my ted interlocked with my fingers. He would quickly snatch ted from me and hide him in the most ridiculous place he could think of. Even after he came home from India to make a slow journey of recovery, he was still making jokes, and recalling childhood memories. He would always have something to say to make a joke out of any conversation which would result in a series of giggling and eye rolling. Overall, he was an amazing person to be around and we will all miss him a tonne.

I don't see how you could have done this any better. A belter.
 
I’m sure my Dad thought I was a boy! My Mam was ill once when I was a baby so he said he’d take me out for the day to let her rest. Where do you take your one year old daughter? Normal Dad’s would have probably gone for a nice walk in the park or something. Not mine – he took me on a tour of Roker Park!

When I was a little older, weekends were spent with my Dad “jobbing on.” Used to help him with DIY jobs or washing the car etc. Radio Newcastle would be on in the background and we’d be listening out for “it’s a gooooaaaaallllllllll” and hoping it was good news. We’d pack in about 4.30 and go and watch everything coming through on the videprinter before final score came on. After tea, he’d walk to Savacentre and buy a Football Echo and we’d read it before I went to bed.

Got a bit older still and we started going to the match. It was the old third division when I really got hooked and we’d sit and talk football for ages. Never really stopped talking football with him.

He got me interested in other random things he found fascinating – mathematics, astronomy, steam trains. Could tell many a tale about laying outside in the middle of the night watching shooting stars or the beaming grin on his face every time he stood on a footplate.

Grew up with the same warped sense of humour and we’d laugh at the most stupidest of things. We were in Sunderland museum a couple of weeks back and there was a piece of branch that said petrified wood. I said “aww wonder what that poor twig was scared of?” He went off into hysterics and my Mam groaned and said “yep, you’re definitely his daughter!” We wound her up something rotten as well. She often mock scolded us and called us a right pair.

Never really saw him cry. He was always quite a “stiff upper lip” kind of bloke. Even when his own mother died, I never saw him cry in front of me. He was so proud of me the day I got my degree. I didn’t do it the conventional way. Decided to do it when I was juggling working part time with two children and gave birth to the third one in the middle of it. He kept me going through all of it and wouldn’t let me give up. When I graduated, I wore his gown and hood. I’ll never forget the look of sheer pride on his face and the tears that fell when he saw me in the gown. Until the stroke which left his emotions all over the place, that was the only time I ever saw him cry.

He had the heart attack and stroke in India. He took bad after the 3-0 win at St James Park and blamed Jack Colback for everything! He was seriously ill and I didn’t even know if I’d see him again. Finally they let him come back in the air ambulance. The first time I saw him in Sunderland he was laying there all wired up to machines and he had the typical dropped stroke face. He just looked at me and said “eeeeh hello pet. I’ve been a bit poorly!”

The last five years have been a rollercoaster. He’s had no end of problems with his heart, lungs, kidneys and so on. We’ve had several scares in the past but he’s kept battling on. We’ve managed to fill the five years with plenty memories. Been to many places, most recently the Leonardo exhibition and the Moon exhibition at Life. Took him in the planetarium there and he was grinning like an idiot.

He took poorly last Monday and was admitted into hospital. He seemed to be perking up though. I went in on Saturday night after the match as he wanted a report on that, and again on Sunday. He seemed to be getting better and they were talking about maybe letting him come home.

Went in yesterday afternoon and he wasn’t well at all. His breathing was poor and his colour shocked me. They were giving him morphine for the pain and he was spaced out but he knew the lads were playing last night.

I spoke to him on the phone about 11pm last night. I just wanted to talk to him before I went to bed. We discussed the match and he was excited that we’re going to Wembley. He said he really fancied a pint. I told him to get himself well and promised to buy him beers to watch the final with.

Rang this morning to see how he was. He was dozing but otherwise still the same. A few minutes after that, his breathing got shallower and then he just slipped away.

He was my best mate as well as my Dad and I love him so much. I've got a pain in my heart and he's going to be a huge miss.

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As long as he lives on in your heart, mind and soul you will always be together, memories are only alive when laughed at, talked about and debated, they in turn make you happy, sad and also empowered.

They lighten up the dark nights and are a shining beacon in the darkness. They occupy you at funny times and keep the nightmares at bay.

Remember him at good times, bad times at all times, that way he is still sharing your life. My mam, god bless her has been gone a while, yet I still talk to her in my head and vocally quite often, still alive and real to me.

Often I hear a sound, smell something or something happens unusual and I think theres mam. Who knows, it may be truth or just in my head. Either way it comforts me, I did ask @Amber to let me adopt her mam, but no the greedy twat is keeping her close to her own heart.

Cannot blame her for that. The moral is we are all part of a greater gestalt, unless we choose not to be and why would you do that. Take care all, rest Easy all RIP MLFs . Your duty is done and see you on the 31st the spiritual home of football.

@Ginger John you did well aka Bec's, my regards to you and yours and everyone will agree, the whistle was blown early, as the referee as usual messed up the extra time.

But you have your own VAR memories for you replays . Keep the faith Ha-Way MLFs past and present you bonnie lads and lasses. RIP called to early to run the lines xxxx

Lovely. Just lovely Becs. I knew you could do it. Xx


Nice to see you back offering support @Amber good lass xxxx

I saw that and I really feel for you. It's not easy at all. Sending my love xx

Did well fella xxxx
 
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