Gerry was my only real uncle. He was someone I knew since the beginning; one of those constant influences that left such a good influence on me on every occasion I met him.
When I was very young, he stated at mime for Christmas. I got a table football set and he played it with me when nobody else would.
I asked him what team was he. 'Rushden and Diamonds,' he said in his deep, patient voice. When we finished our game and he agreed to play another, I asked him again what team he would be. 'Rushden and Diamonds,' he said again.
The thing is, we must have played another five or more times, and each time, I asked him that same question. He answered the same each time. The memory for me, though I might not have effectively conveyed it, reminds me of how annoying I am and how patient Gerry always was. I was a giddy nuisance that so many people would have shunned and would have played one, possibly two, games of table football with, but Gerry was so different.
He understood me at that moment. Though I was giddy, I was also happy. Too many people would have focused on the giddy part too much and judged me, but because Gerry always saw the best in people, he saw a happy child that craved attention and wanted to play with someone on his new table football set.
It breaks my heart more than I can put into words that I will never see him again. I last saw Gerry in March 2020 and unsurprisingly, my memory of him then, as it always was, is such a positive one - of a happy, kind, respectful person who melted my heart with his beauty.
I will miss him so much. I will miss you Gerry. I hope to see you again one day.
RIP, you brilliant man.
Gerry was my only real uncle. He was someone I knew since the beginning; one of those constant influences that left such a good influence on me on every occasion I met him.
When I was very young, he stated at mime for Christmas. I got a table football set and he played it with me when nobody else would.
I asked him what team was he. 'Rushden and Diamonds,' he said in his deep, patient voice. When we finished our game and he agreed to play another, I asked him again what team he would be. 'Rushden and Diamonds,' he said again.
The thing is, we must have played another five or more times, and each time, I asked him that same question. He answered the same each time. The memory for me, though I might not have effectively conveyed it, reminds me of how annoying I am and how patient Gerry always was. I was a giddy nuisance that so many people would have shunned and would have played one, possibly two, games of table football with, but Gerry was so different.
He understood me at that moment. Though I was giddy, I was also happy. Too many people would have focused on the giddy part too much and judged me, but because Gerry always saw the best in people, he saw a happy child that craved attention and wanted to play with someone on his new table football set.
It breaks my heart more than I can put into words that I will never see him again. I last saw Gerry in March 2020 and unsurprisingly, my memory of him then, as it always was, is such a positive one - of a happy, kind, respectful person who melted my heart with his beauty.
I will miss him so much. I will miss you Gerry. I hope to see you again one day.
RIP, you brilliant man.
