As I sat down to begin to write something that described Dad and encompassed everything that he was I realised what an impossible task we faced. I couldn’t even try to describe every part of my dad as there was so much to him as a person. I also realised that everyone in this room already knows who he is as he will have touched all of your lives in some way. Dad grew up in Manchester, his father died when he was young and his mum Mona remarried to George, who passed away last year. Having had chest problems from a young age Dad was sent off to live in the country, which in those days meant Bolton! He attended an open-air boarding school where he spent 6 years. When he talked about those days I get the impression that it was very difficult being away from his family – but that it also helped to build the person he became. The boys weren’t mollycoddled in any way – they were often made to go walking up the hills wearing only plimsolls, shorts and a vest – even in artic conditions. On one occasion they bumped into an army training unit who were all fully protected from the very rainy conditions and were so horrified to see these shivering wet boys that they insisted on sheltering them with their raincoats. But those experiences taught Dad never to give in to his illnesses. It was all about mind over matter. If he told his body he was going to do something then he would go ahead and do it. Dad possessed a quiet strength and dignity. He wasn’t pushy or rude – but he had a presence that made you feel comfortable and safe. I always knew I was going to be ok when my Dad was around. He had a great sense of humour, he was quick and witty. There was a real streak of naughtiness to him and he could be a terrible teaser. He’d always know how to wind me up - but with a smile on his face. As a young man he apparently had a bit of a wild streak – with his friends Nobby, Bob, Vinnie, Christy and Jimmy they made up the Barnett Street Boys and I get the impression that he had many strong memories from those days – and that they were very different to his more recent life. My mum talks about when they first lived together and how Dad used to hate having to conform and pay things like car tax and insurance! I can’t ever imagine the Dad I knew not paying his bills but it seems that in those days the bills were always late. This gradually began to change. After having my brother Craig they moved into Stott Drive and Dad slowly started turning into the responsible Dad I remember. I remember telling a friend once that I knew we were poor when we were young as we only had one car and had to go to Kwik Save with three of us balanced on mum’s bike! My sister Joanne and I completed the Taylor family, followed by our dog Jasper years later. Whilst he could sometimes be quite scary when he was in disciplinarian mode, Dad was also a bit of a softie. When we visited my Aunty Terri who my Dad has always been incredibly close to, we fell in love with one of the puppies her English Springer had just had. Dad refused point blank to let us have a dog and we returned to Manchester a very sorry bunch. Not much more than a week later we got home from school to find that Dad had driven all the way back to Essex and brought Jasper back home. Buying their house was a dream for dad. He invested his heart into the house and loved nothing more than knocking things down and building them back up. Some of my fondest childhood memories involve wheelbarrows or paint stripping or trips to B & Q. I think everyone would agree that in the end my parents achieved something really lovely together. My parents had a very special relationship. I always remember being amazed that when my dad was working away he and mum would speak on the phone every night for at least an hour. I couldn’t understand how they still had so much to talk about to each other – but I think it came from their strength of feelings for each other, and their closeness over the years. Family was really important to Dad and he also felt really strongly about respect and manners. A friend, John Topalian once arrived and as I let him in and took his coat and offered him a cup of tea he exclaimed “Phil, you’ve changed!” he was so surprised to see this former wild child with a house, wife and 3 (seemingly) well-behaved children. Our family has grown over the years to include Craig’s wife Sharon, their children Reece and Danielle and Joanne’s husband Andy and son Henry. When we were together as a family Dad would be the first one to open some wine and sit down and get everyone chatting away. We have had so many amazing times together I couldn’t begin to tell you about them all. But they all involved laughing, being silly and generally sharing optimism, love and kindness – all qualities my parents have taught us. There are so many memories, like being silly Grandad giving Henry tickly kisses with his beard, taking Reece & Danielle crabbing off the pier in Beaumaris, watching him fix my car. Years spent camping in Anglesey as a great big group or going away in our caravan and not being allowed to talk to dad until he’d put the awning up. I also remember the many parties my parents have had at the house - Dad would be the first person to offer you a drink or welcome you in. I remember being away in Australia and my sister sent a video she had filmed on New Year’s Day. As is the way in our family they didn’t want me to feel left out. They also didn’t want me to miss the sight of my Dad (who my brother had managed to get staggeringly drunk on White Russians) doing an impression of a seal and laughing hysterically. As usual his face had gone really red and tears were rolling down his face as he was laughing so much. That’s the image of my Dad I will always remember. Dad wouldn’t want too many tears. He wouldn’t want you to mourn him forever. As his brother Brian said to Craig on the phone when we were having a hard day at the hospital, “Chin up cocker”. Dad would agree with that. Chin up, keep going. Take a deep breath and smile.