My dad died on 31st October. Today we said our final goodbyes. His funeral was a fitting tribute and honoured him in the most beautiful way.
Grief is a weird mix of conflicting emotions that don't generally belong together. The day was filled with laughter, fond memories, a deep sadness and sense of loss.
The eulogy was beautifully expressed and captured his spirit and meaningful moments in the most incredible way. His casket entered the hall to the sound of "Albatross" by Fleetwood Mac, we had moments of reflection to the tune of "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet and we exited the crematorium to the sound of Dizzy Gillespie's "Umbrella Man".
I had the honour of being a pallbearer and speaking. My dad's sister and last remaining sibling Ruth, an accomplished "performance poet" shared a poem that she wrote about their childhood when they accidentally set fire to a thatched outbuilding on the premises of where they lived. The poem was called "It Wasn't Me".
Dad had accomplished much in his life from swimming in the national championships in the early 1960's, playing water polo for Leicestershire and later Clacton, playing trombone in a jazz orchestra and writing the book "Sundowner" about his retirement sailing around the Ionian Islands.
There are countless stories about his sense of adventure, somewhat mischievous spirit and travels to different corners of the earth. He was reportedly a talented professional technical author in his working years, having worked on some high profile projects in several different countries... though he always told me that if I ever read a technical manual and didn't understand it, he probably wrote it.
In many ways, he is responsible for my eclectic and rather experimental music taste. Though dad was primarily passionate about jazz, a big fan of Miles Davis and John Coltrane, he also introduced me to the music of Van Der Graaf Generator, The Who, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix and Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac at a young impressionable age. We included many of his favourite tunes at the gathering after the funeral along with a slideshow of some 500 photographs.
However, what impressed me most about dad was his friendships and ability to do relationships. Always a safe place to talk, non judgmental, inclusive and yet not pandering to the whims of convention or societal expectations. He was his own man. His friendship with John McGill stands out, 40+ years. They were like brothers. The fact that he was in touch with alumni from his school years at Friends School, Saffron Walden, several whom attended the funeral. Dad valued connection and whilst he wasn't a fan of shallow small talk, he enjoyed banter, humour, dry and wry wit but also was able to listen well and create space for deep talk.
To be truly successful in anything, you have to do relationships well and dad did that. I witnessed it whilst sailing around the Ionian with him. He knew people on every island we visited and the locals loved him. I experienced it as I informed friends and relatives about his passing, both through the expressed sadness and gratitude of his presence in their lives.
In recent months I sat with dad and talked through his desert island discs which are featured in the playlist below.
Carrying his casket meant a lot to me. He often carried me on his shoulders when I was small. He carried me as I entered the world. It felt fitting that I should carry him as he made his exit. I will miss him immensely.
His favourite phrase was Ola Kala. It is Greek. It means "all is well" or "everything's okay"
Ola Kala
Here's a link to in interview he did in 2020 with Sailworld Cruising about his book "Sundowner": www.sailworldcruising.com/news/230493
Grief is a weird mix of conflicting emotions that don't generally belong together. The day was filled with laughter, fond memories, a deep sadness and sense of loss.
The eulogy was beautifully expressed and captured his spirit and meaningful moments in the most incredible way. His casket entered the hall to the sound of "Albatross" by Fleetwood Mac, we had moments of reflection to the tune of "Take Five" by the Dave Brubeck Quartet and we exited the crematorium to the sound of Dizzy Gillespie's "Umbrella Man".
I had the honour of being a pallbearer and speaking. My dad's sister and last remaining sibling Ruth, an accomplished "performance poet" shared a poem that she wrote about their childhood when they accidentally set fire to a thatched outbuilding on the premises of where they lived. The poem was called "It Wasn't Me".
Dad had accomplished much in his life from swimming in the national championships in the early 1960's, playing water polo for Leicestershire and later Clacton, playing trombone in a jazz orchestra and writing the book "Sundowner" about his retirement sailing around the Ionian Islands.
There are countless stories about his sense of adventure, somewhat mischievous spirit and travels to different corners of the earth. He was reportedly a talented professional technical author in his working years, having worked on some high profile projects in several different countries... though he always told me that if I ever read a technical manual and didn't understand it, he probably wrote it.
In many ways, he is responsible for my eclectic and rather experimental music taste. Though dad was primarily passionate about jazz, a big fan of Miles Davis and John Coltrane, he also introduced me to the music of Van Der Graaf Generator, The Who, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix and Peter Green's Fleetwood Mac at a young impressionable age. We included many of his favourite tunes at the gathering after the funeral along with a slideshow of some 500 photographs.
However, what impressed me most about dad was his friendships and ability to do relationships. Always a safe place to talk, non judgmental, inclusive and yet not pandering to the whims of convention or societal expectations. He was his own man. His friendship with John McGill stands out, 40+ years. They were like brothers. The fact that he was in touch with alumni from his school years at Friends School, Saffron Walden, several whom attended the funeral. Dad valued connection and whilst he wasn't a fan of shallow small talk, he enjoyed banter, humour, dry and wry wit but also was able to listen well and create space for deep talk.
To be truly successful in anything, you have to do relationships well and dad did that. I witnessed it whilst sailing around the Ionian with him. He knew people on every island we visited and the locals loved him. I experienced it as I informed friends and relatives about his passing, both through the expressed sadness and gratitude of his presence in their lives.
In recent months I sat with dad and talked through his desert island discs which are featured in the playlist below.
Carrying his casket meant a lot to me. He often carried me on his shoulders when I was small. He carried me as I entered the world. It felt fitting that I should carry him as he made his exit. I will miss him immensely.
His favourite phrase was Ola Kala. It is Greek. It means "all is well" or "everything's okay"
Ola Kala
Here's a link to in interview he did in 2020 with Sailworld Cruising about his book "Sundowner": www.sailworldcruising.com/news/230493
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