Eulogy Dad was - a dad - grandad, husband, brother, runner, carpenter and gardener - among many other things. He also loved animals. Over the years, we had cats, a parrot, a tortoise, guinea pigs, and a lovely pond with all sorts of creatures in it. Dad’s family had a dog when he was growing up and he adored Rusty and Nell - mine and Sasha’s family dogs. Dad was also an avid reader - particularly in the last couple of decades - and in recent years a demon lawn bowler, playing for his county. He was also, at least since 1985, when I was nine and he was 35, the fittest and healthiest person I know. Properly, exceptionally fit. London Marathon year after year. Raising money for charity in dozens of half marathons. Swimming. Walking. Allotmenting. When Dad came to our house in Markyate last Christmas Eve, the day before his 71st birthday, wearing a black Nike baseball cap and fashionable trainers, and carrying it off, which I probably couldn’t, it reminded me yet again that he was, in mind, body and spirit, still young. He was not an old man in any way. Not even close. He was fresh-thinking and interested in technology and young people and politics and the world and life. He’s gone too soon. Dad, and Mum, gave me and my sister the best childhood we could ever have wished for. Beautiful, fun and inviting garden. Immaculate, safe and happy house. Oceans of time and space to play. Endless toys and games. All the 80s and 90s technology we wanted. And I wanted all of it. Magical Christmases - which also doubled up as Dad’s birthday. Sunny, sand-and-sea holidays in Spain and Portugal. But the main thing about Dad was his visceral, elemental kindness and goodness. He could quite literally not hurt a fly. When there was a spider in the house, he would pick it up gently and take it outside. “They are all God’s creatures”, he said. He meant it. It was not a kindness that was affected or learned or superficial. It was primal and existential and deep. Personally, he gave me total support and security, and - and this is really crucial - complete freedom to be me. I know he did that for Sasha too. He was amazing. He will be missed. But he will, I know, live on through his impact on everyone who knew him. By Scott Payton

Nothing Gold Can Stay - By Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

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