The earliest memory I think I have of Dad is when I was very small and I used to pile on him in front of the fire in the living room and just 'rile' him while he'd spin me round. I had endless energy at that age but it would wear him out!
The main thing I inherited from Dad is his dry sense of humour. He could be very serious, but he liked nothing more than to sit down in front of the telly and watch one of the classic comedies like Dad's Army, Porridge, Yes Minister, The Likely Lads, Only Fools and Horses - and they've all rubbed off on me. I can watch them again and again and think of him really laughing his socks off at them. We actually watched Yes Minister again, together, just a few weeks ago.
He introduced us all to Hancock's Half Hour - I can picture him now watching the one about Lord Byron, or the one where Tony was stuck in a lift, and properly laughing out loud at the funniest lines. He'd usually turn to me while laughing and it was always great to see him enjoying himself so much.
Dad told us that from a very early age he adored Blackpool. It's maybe not everyone's cup of tea these days, but he often remembered how much his own Dad had loved the place - again he told me this only a few weeks ago. That affection for Blackpool rubbed off on him, and in turn it has rubbed off on me - Blackpool will always remain a guilty pleasure.
He'd grown up loving the old films and weekly serials, and over the years he built up quite a decent collection on DVD of all the old westerns and adventure serials he used to go and see at the Regent/Regal cinema in Owen Street, Tipton.
And then there was his prized collection of film and football books, many new ones but some very old ones. Over the years his older originals had dwindled, so I was really happy that I was able to get hold of some of those originals for him again. Just a few months ago I found him a copy of the Stanley Matthews Football Album that he'd first had as a present from his own Mom and Dad back in 1951, and its sitting right opposite me as I write this.
In his final few weeks he became ever weaker and whilst Mom was in hospital I effectively became his full time carer. We'd chat about all manner of things, when he was strong enough, and then I'd usually give him a hug and kiss before going to bed. One of the days, out of the blue, he called out "I'm proud of you". I know he was proud of both me and Paul, and that moment has given me something nice to think about since he left us.
But of course there are so many lovely things that will remind us of him, and everyone here will have their own - these are just some of mine. Love you Dad!
The earliest memory I think I have of Dad is when I was very small and I used to pile on him in front of the fire in the living room and just 'rile' him while he'd spin me round. I had endless energy at that age but it would wear him out!
The main thing I inherited from Dad is his dry sense of humour. He could be very serious, but he liked nothing more than to sit down in front of the telly and watch one of the classic comedies like Dad's Army, Porridge, Yes Minister, The Likely Lads, Only Fools and Horses - and they've all rubbed off on me. I can watch them again and again and think of him really laughing his socks off at them. We actually watched Yes Minister again, together, just a few weeks ago.
He introduced us all to Hancock's Half Hour - I can picture him now watching the one about Lord Byron, or the one where Tony was stuck in a lift, and properly laughing out loud at the funniest lines. He'd usually turn to me while laughing and it was always great to see him enjoying himself so much.
Dad told us that from a very early age he adored Blackpool. It's maybe not everyone's cup of tea these days, but he often remembered how much his own Dad had loved the place - again he told me this only a few weeks ago. That affection for Blackpool rubbed off on him, and in turn it has rubbed off on me - Blackpool will always remain a guilty pleasure.
He'd grown up loving the old films and weekly serials, and over the years he built up quite a decent collection on DVD of all the old westerns and adventure serials he used to go and see at the Regent/Regal cinema in Owen Street, Tipton.
And then there was his prized collection of film and football books, many new ones but some very old ones. Over the years his older originals had dwindled, so I was really happy that I was able to get hold of some of those originals for him again. Just a few months ago I found him a copy of the Stanley Matthews Football Album that he'd first had as a present from his own Mom and Dad back in 1951, and its sitting right opposite me as I write this.
In his final few weeks he became ever weaker and whilst Mom was in hospital I effectively became his full time carer. We'd chat about all manner of things, when he was strong enough, and then I'd usually give him a hug and kiss before going to bed. One of the days, out of the blue, he called out "I'm proud of you". I know he was proud of both me and Paul, and that moment has given me something nice to think about since he left us.
But of course there are so many lovely things that will remind us of him, and everyone here will have their own - these are just some of mine. Love you Dad!
The main thing I inherited from Dad is his dry sense of humour. He could be very serious, but he liked nothing more than to sit down in front of the telly and watch one of the classic comedies like Dad's Army, Porridge, Yes Minister, The Likely Lads, Only Fools and Horses - and they've all rubbed off on me. I can watch them again and again and think of him really laughing his socks off at them. We actually watched Yes Minister again, together, just a few weeks ago.
He introduced us all to Hancock's Half Hour - I can picture him now watching the one about Lord Byron, or the one where Tony was stuck in a lift, and properly laughing out loud at the funniest lines. He'd usually turn to me while laughing and it was always great to see him enjoying himself so much.
Dad told us that from a very early age he adored Blackpool. It's maybe not everyone's cup of tea these days, but he often remembered how much his own Dad had loved the place - again he told me this only a few weeks ago. That affection for Blackpool rubbed off on him, and in turn it has rubbed off on me - Blackpool will always remain a guilty pleasure.
He'd grown up loving the old films and weekly serials, and over the years he built up quite a decent collection on DVD of all the old westerns and adventure serials he used to go and see at the Regent/Regal cinema in Owen Street, Tipton.
And then there was his prized collection of film and football books, many new ones but some very old ones. Over the years his older originals had dwindled, so I was really happy that I was able to get hold of some of those originals for him again. Just a few months ago I found him a copy of the Stanley Matthews Football Album that he'd first had as a present from his own Mom and Dad back in 1951, and its sitting right opposite me as I write this.
In his final few weeks he became ever weaker and whilst Mom was in hospital I effectively became his full time carer. We'd chat about all manner of things, when he was strong enough, and then I'd usually give him a hug and kiss before going to bed. One of the days, out of the blue, he called out "I'm proud of you". I know he was proud of both me and Paul, and that moment has given me something nice to think about since he left us.
But of course there are so many lovely things that will remind us of him, and everyone here will have their own - these are just some of mine. Love you Dad!