Dad was always a man of his word and I like to think he is fulfilling his promise to our Mum to join her, and in doing that, bring with him her pink roses. Sadly we couldn’t find McCartney’s however the intention was there and they now lie on her stone outside. So in some ways today is to celebrate both their lives. Dad was never one to adhere to sell by dates – as some of us knew almost to our cost! He carried on a bit longer than perhaps his body should have allowed him too. His strength of mind and will was such that he just kept going and that combined with being so well looked after and loved by everyone at Scotchdyke where he spent his last 6 months, and by his doctor and friend – Judith Collier. As a family we truly thank you for your care of him. Dad lived a full life and in thinking about what to say, I felt there were several themes that reflected his life: music, theatre, service and his family. His music was a grand passion and his violin went everywhere – even when we didn’t! He started young, was proud all his life about having perfect pitch and had is own dance band in his late teens. Unlike his brother – Keith – he didn’t formally play in the RAF, however most messes in this world would have heard Dad play at least once… or twice or….. Once he retired from the RAF and indeed the world of work he was able in this area to play in a number of local orchestras, putting on and be part of musical reviews and importantly playing in the St Andrew’s church orchestra. They have got back together and are playing today and who we really thank for being a central part of this celebration. Dad played his violin almost to the end as he even entertained on several occasions in Scotchdyke – something he did in the past when he played for the carol singers at Christmas time. Theatre was another grand passion for him. I am not sure when it actually started, however with little formal training; Dad was recognised as a very professional amateur actor. Not only did he act, he directed, stage managed, built sets and even built theatres- when there were none to play. I remember him playing one of the dustmen in my fair lady in California in the 60’s and then ended up playing Pickering here at Littlehampton- as his last performance on the boards. Wherever we were Dad always had his makeup with him. Once again when Mum and he moved to angmering he got involved with rustington players, the Littlehampton/Arun light opera, and even worked with Worthing light opera I believe. Service was a big part of Dad’s life. He joined the RAF at the start of the war, and became a pilot. Because he was skilled at flying he was made an instructor and his regret was that he never flew operational in the war. Lucky for us really as we may not be standing here today if he had! He met Mum at the end of the war and theirs was a whirlwind romance. Meeting at a dance in the October or November and married that March. A marriage that last 58 years. Although he was demobbed after war, he rejoined and spent the next 25 odd years serving his country – mainly under ground and underneath cows, as I was told when I was young, as he protected the country as a master radar controller up and down the coast of Britain and abroad. As a family we were lucky that he travelled and most of us travelled with him. We all have a love of travel and foreign things because of that, I am sure. Once he retired from the RAF, after a very brief interlude in the civil service, he went to Saudi Arabia for about 10 years until finally retiring in this area where he then got involved in serving the community through theatre, music, the voice of progress, neighbourhood watch, Ferring residents association and as a President of Probus, to name but a few. Dad was a talented man of many parts, probably the only thing he wasn’t good at was sport and most of us got that talent from Mum. Mum and Dad married in 1946 and had 58 mainly happy years together, bringing up 4 kids and doing the best they could. I have very happy memories of many summers as an adult coming down here with friends and having BBQs in the garden, boating up to the Black Rabbit pub and generally having fun with Mum and Dad. They both in some ways became friends as well as parents. When Mum passed on, Dad never really recovered. Although he looked after her in her last years, he really was also very reliant on her for many things. Not least his memory. He was always talking about treading the boards one last time, and thanks to my brother in law, Ron, I like to think that he is now putting on a huge production in another place with Mum in the front row looking on and carrying her pink roses. Finally, I would like to end with a quote from Françoise Mitterrand that I was given last week by a great friend, which for me sums it all up. The fear of death is virtually meaningless. We need to have the humility to know that, in death, we’re in the company of countless others, And that death is the only certain destiny that awaits all of us. I’m not overly preoccupied with death, but rather the enormous question mark it represents. Is it nothingness? That’s possible. If its not, then what a great adventure lies ahead. I like to think that Dad and Mum are now on their great magnificent adventure.