This is (something like) what I’ll read as the eulogy for my Dad at his funeral today.

My first memories of Dad were of him tinkering with stuff in his garage. He was always making and mending.

He taught me how to be an engineer.

There seemed to be a constant flow of people to the house (and the back yard) looking for help with their car or motorbike or scooter or DIY job, and he seemed to make a lot of friends by helping people out.

We also got into lots of activities that a boy should do with his Dad.

He taught me how to sail a boat, and catch fish, and tie knots.

And everybody we met doing those activities seemed to be another friend he made along the way.

Dad loved a good meal, and a nice glass of wine.

He taught me to appreciate the finer things in life.

And many of you are here today because you know Dad from a dinner club or wine tasting.

Much of that might not have happened if it wasn’t for Enid, and their shared interests.

He taught me that it’s important to be with the ones you love.

It’s wonderful that Dad and Enid found each other again, and enjoyed many happy decades together.

The day after I heard the tragic news about Dad I read:

“All that matters is that at the end of the day you’re a good man”

Jason Hamm’s grandfather

I think Dad must have been a good man, because that’s why so many of you are here today to say goodbye.

His obituary notice has published in the Evening Chronicle Newcastle.

Donations to Alzheimer’s Society can also be given in his memory at the Paul Whitfield Celebration Fund,

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