Add a story? Just one? I don't think I can pick one story out of all the thoughts spinning round in my head. Here are some memories from my childhood. 

You were always a huge presence in our lives, larger than life, lively and loving.

We would sit on your knee; me on the left and Kate on the right and you would read books to us. Alice in Wonderland; Alice through the looking glass; The Borrowers, aloft, afloat and afield....all read so well.

Holidays you woke us before dawn (to beat the traffic), loaded the Morris Traveller (Rosie) to impossible capacity, and we'd be off... after checking the stop cocks had been turned off, and always having to return home 2 minutes down the road as Mum would announce we had forgotten the tin opener. The tin opener was essential as Dad would insist that we take all the food we would need so we didn't have to visit any civilisation (shops) and so tins of Irish Stew would make up a large quantity of camp meals.

Our camps were always beset by various calamities. The lada sank in mud whilst we had been away from it climbing a hill and Dad and I had to extract it using bracken as traction. Mum and Kate sat on the verge; Mum cadet fag in hand, watching the pair of us. A terrible man - dubbed the "Beast" threatened to pitch fork Rosie (the car) if we didn't "gerr off my LAAANNDD" - we were only parked on the verge. A public footpath from Crediton to Tolpuddle had overgrown completely so Dad got out his umbrella and literally hacked our way through the undergrowth... it took hours to get there. Sitting on the wooden seat at Capel-y-Finn in Wales and Dad lifting Mums' t-shirt (she was bra-less) and flashing a motorist who drove past causing a near crash.... how we laughed. We laughed an awful lot. Dad could be very silly. He thought it great fun to embarrass us as much as possible; hiding in shop doorways and peeping at us when we walked past with friends. Twirling his umbrella as we walked along the broadway and singing "The man that broke the bank at Montecarlo".

He took us with him on walks often. He took us with him to the allotment for hours on end. These walks and trips usually ended with some tasty morsel being purchased. Prawns from the shellfish stall in Norwood; hot spring rolls from the chinese outside the allotments; nutty cornettos from the shops on the Broadway; walnut whips (and one for Mum back at home). He had a sweet tooth and liked his grub. Perhaps too much...

There are so many more.... you were a huge part of my life. You shaped me far more than I really know. 

Miss you so much Dad.

XX