Our Dad. Son, brother, husband, brother-in-law, uncle, friend, father-in-law and Grumpo. He took to each of these roles brilliantly. There was nothing he couldn’t do. There was nothing he couldn’t do brilliantly. The fact that there are so many, many stories we could tell sums our Dad up. We are sure each and everyone here could get up and say how he touched their lives and made things ‘better’. We could mention his humour, his thoughtfulness, his humility or his care. But we wouldn’t know where to start. So we have picked out two, just two, instances that to us encapsulate a little bit about what we thought was special about our Dad. One from many years ago, one more recent. One day, two little girls left the Billington family home around Bonfire night to go ‘penny for the guy’ing. They sat for hours unsuccessfully asking as people walked by. Our Dad watched from a distance and couldn’t bear the disappointment in those young eyes. So home he went, dressed up as an old man unrecognisable to his daughters, and then proceeded to pass the little girls as if a stranger. The little girls asked a mumbled, dispirited ‘penny for the guy’. Our Dad gave them a penny, which lit up their faces, but he then proceeded to take the guy, answering the young girls protestations by saying ‘I bought it, you sold it to me for a penny….’ A debate then ensued with the young girls arguing with the old man and explaining to him that he didn’t understand what ‘Penny for the Guy’ meant. Eventually ‘the old man’ accepted the little girls argument and trudged off, leaving two smiling, victorious girls behind him, far from the dispirited pair from earlier. This little story is just one small, insignificant example of how our Dad repeatedly tried to make people happy and tried to keep the magic of childhood alive, especially for us. We could have mentioned his ‘magic potions’ that removed warts, or phoning nieces pretending to be ‘live’ on the radio, or many other examples that show what he loved about life and making people happy. But the story of the little girls asking for ‘Penny for the Guy’ is special to us as it had a further twist. As our Dad trudged his way home, still in his ‘old man’ disguise and walking very slowly in character, he came across a group of young boys playing football in the street. As he shuffled past them the ball came temptingly close, and the old man sprang to life expertly controlling the ball, dribbling it around the disbelieving young boys before slotting it past the wide eyed ‘keeper’. The old man then continued his shuffle home, leaving the young boys both open mouthed and in awe of the skills of the old man. He made it home and changed, just in time to hear the excited story of the little girls as they returned home. He listened intently as if it was the first time he had heard everything that happened. He played all his roles brilliantly that day, something he repeated time and again. The second story happened many years later and just goes to show that the little sparkle never left our Dad’s eyes. Our Mum was working on a bakery counter when one Valentine’s Day a young man ‘did the works’ in proposing to his girlfriend on the adjacent vegetable stall within a ‘Kwik Save’– big bunch of flowers, one knee, ring, etc. Our Mum mistakenly told our Dad about this incident, commenting on how foolish young love can be. Our Dad just listened, took note and stored this for future reference. So when our Mum took off her wedding ring in the house whilst doing something likely to catch it nearly a year later, our Dad seized his opportunity and covertly picked up the ring and hid it without our Mum seeing. Our Mum then never said anything as she frantically searched for the wedding ring, hoping our Dad wouldn’t notice before she could find it. Needless to say, our Mum did find her wedding ring again, just not where she was expecting. It was in a pouch, dangling from a rose, held aloft by our Dad as he approached the bakery counter on the next Valentine’s Day. Our Dad then proceeded to loudly and indiscreetly profess his love and ask for our Mum to ‘marry him again’, much to the rest of the shops delight and our Mum’s acute embarrassment. These two stories are just two of many we could have re-countered that give a small insight into what made our Dad special, and why we love him and will miss him so. Our Dad made a difference. He made a difference to everyone who met him and everyone has their own personal stories of the difference he made for them. If we can make even a quarter the difference our Dad made we will have done a bloody good job. More recently, he played his last role brilliantly too – hiding the true nature of the wicked and cruel degenerative illness he had from our Mum and us so that we would not worry too much. He knew, and really we knew in our heads too though our hearts willed it not to be true. We just wanted to keep our brilliant Dad that bit longer. We know it should give us comfort that our proud, loving, stubborn but above all wonderful Dad no longer has to suffer and see himself lose the independence and self-reliance he so valued. We hope it will in time. But how everything ultimately played out just goes to show once again what a truly wonderful Dad we have lost, because he never stopped putting others ahead of himself. As long as we remember our Dad, what he did for us and the wonderful example he set, he will always be with us. Love you Dad. Till we meet again.