Words by Steve Watkins:
Words that would describe Dad:
Prankster, he loved a good prank, and many were played on us three boys. One favourite
memory that always made a wicked smile brew across his face was when he’d spoken to
Neil and myself and told us when he said volunteers step forward, to take one step
backward, moments later he’d line the three if us up and said the washing up needs doing,
volunteers step forward, Neil and I followed instruction leaving Luke stood forward with a
mixed expression on his face of confusion and shock and what had just happened. He
loved the most simple of jokes, and I firmly blame him for my inability to contain myself
when there is an opportunity to share a Dad joke, no matter how lame.
Kind, Dad had a kindness within him that was gentle and humble, yet as fiercely persistent
as nature’s force. Our home whilst we were growing up, wasn’t just a home, it was a
welcome stop gap for so many of our school friends and even work colleagues as we grew
up, that would visit to spend time in his company sometimes even rather than to visit us.
He had time for anyone, and would listen and talk through their ailments until they had felt
better. This is a trait I feel that Neil, Luke and I will carry forward. As a family, we were
always brought up to be helpers to those in need.
Intellectual, Dad could comprehend the complexity of a philosophical debate to an
exceptional level, and answer questions with an air of simplicity that made the question
seem trivial. I’ve had the pleasure to spend many hours discussing the inner workings of
the how and why of the world with him.
Lazy, Dad had laziness down to an artform, not that he would shirk at his duties in life, but
he’d found a way to complete duties successfully and still remain as lazy or chilled as
possible. I was having a chat with our family friend Duncan a couple of evenings ago, and
when expressing a tactic my employers appear to have utilised me for, I’d said that if you
want a job to be done as efficiently as possible, ask a lazy person to do it. Duncan had
chuckled and said I’d sounded so much like my father when I said that.
Quiet patience, Dad was a master of silence, so much so that he’d quite happily sit quiet
for an entire evening without saying a word at times. I could ask him a question or open a
conversation with him, and he’d appear to mull it over for hours, leaving me wondering if
he’d heard me. He’d then blurt out an answer much later when I’d given up waiting for a
response.
Today, is a day to celebrate the man that Dad was, and all that he had become in his
time.
He’s been a amazing Dad, a Friend, a Husband, a Grandfather, an Uncle, a Brother, an
Agony aunt, a Guide, a Mentor, a teacher, a Poet, an Artist, a Writer, a damn good chess
player, a Tai chi and Qi gong practitioner, and even a hero to some if not to many. That’s
to name just a few of his achievements, there were many more further strings to his bow.
It is also a day to grieve, and to be selfish for a moment and miss him, whilst all of us are
together, and able to continue the journey of the kindness he will have shown all of us and
use that to support each other. For some, grief is a difficult thing to allow to be seen, today,
it is ok to show that proudly, and to share it and to let it go. Tears, just like smiles, shouldn’t
be put in bottles. They are a bloom of emotional energy that needs to flow through, rather
than stop and remain trapped to go stale.
I just want to say thanks to the man that has given me and my brothers his all in being the
best father he can be within the means he had.
Thanks Dad, for being you, and for being a boy’s hero to look up to with awe.
Words by Steve Watkins:
Words that would describe Dad:
Prankster, he loved a good prank, and many were played on us three boys. One favourite
memory that always made a wicked smile brew across his face was when he’d spoken to
Neil and myself and told us when he said volunteers step forward, to take one step
backward, moments later he’d line the three if us up and said the washing up needs doing,
volunteers step forward, Neil and I followed instruction leaving Luke stood forward with a
mixed expression on his face of confusion and shock and what had just happened. He
loved the most simple of jokes, and I firmly blame him for my inability to contain myself
when there is an opportunity to share a Dad joke, no matter how lame.
Kind, Dad had a kindness within him that was gentle and humble, yet as fiercely persistent
as nature’s force. Our home whilst we were growing up, wasn’t just a home, it was a
welcome stop gap for so many of our school friends and even work colleagues as we grew
up, that would visit to spend time in his company sometimes even rather than to visit us.
He had time for anyone, and would listen and talk through their ailments until they had felt
better. This is a trait I feel that Neil, Luke and I will carry forward. As a family, we were
always brought up to be helpers to those in need.
Intellectual, Dad could comprehend the complexity of a philosophical debate to an
exceptional level, and answer questions with an air of simplicity that made the question
seem trivial. I’ve had the pleasure to spend many hours discussing the inner workings of
the how and why of the world with him.
Lazy, Dad had laziness down to an artform, not that he would shirk at his duties in life, but
he’d found a way to complete duties successfully and still remain as lazy or chilled as
possible. I was having a chat with our family friend Duncan a couple of evenings ago, and
when expressing a tactic my employers appear to have utilised me for, I’d said that if you
want a job to be done as efficiently as possible, ask a lazy person to do it. Duncan had
chuckled and said I’d sounded so much like my father when I said that.
Quiet patience, Dad was a master of silence, so much so that he’d quite happily sit quiet
for an entire evening without saying a word at times. I could ask him a question or open a
conversation with him, and he’d appear to mull it over for hours, leaving me wondering if
he’d heard me. He’d then blurt out an answer much later when I’d given up waiting for a
response.
Today, is a day to celebrate the man that Dad was, and all that he had become in his
time.
He’s been a amazing Dad, a Friend, a Husband, a Grandfather, an Uncle, a Brother, an
Agony aunt, a Guide, a Mentor, a teacher, a Poet, an Artist, a Writer, a damn good chess
player, a Tai chi and Qi gong practitioner, and even a hero to some if not to many. That’s
to name just a few of his achievements, there were many more further strings to his bow.
It is also a day to grieve, and to be selfish for a moment and miss him, whilst all of us are
together, and able to continue the journey of the kindness he will have shown all of us and
use that to support each other. For some, grief is a difficult thing to allow to be seen, today,
it is ok to show that proudly, and to share it and to let it go. Tears, just like smiles, shouldn’t
be put in bottles. They are a bloom of emotional energy that needs to flow through, rather
than stop and remain trapped to go stale.
I just want to say thanks to the man that has given me and my brothers his all in being the
best father he can be within the means he had.
Thanks Dad, for being you, and for being a boy’s hero to look up to with awe.