He and I didn’t have a lot in common. To me, he was a traditional manly man. He liked his beer and his sports, was very practical, good with machines and gardens. And let me tell you, Star Trek never got a look in when the football was on.
But it was hard not to warm to him. He was always generous and upbeat and good company, the kind of guy you want at a dinner or a party. Most of my memories are of him laughing or making those around him laugh.
He was also passionate about people and wasn’t afraid to say hard things if they needed saying. He made a difference in the lives of those around him, supporting work mates (as friend, union rep and latterly, as a father figure to some) and actively investing in the local community, especially the Branston Home Guard Club (where he could often be found enjoying a pint).
He loved his family, especially his grandchildren who never tired of playing with him, hugging him and using him as an epic climbing frame.
His roast dinners were also legendary.
When my Aunt Mary was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis he was incredible. I don’t doubt there were tears but it seemed to me that they both made the most of their time together. As her condition worsened he became her full time carer. To my knowledge he never complained or succumbed to despair. He just got on and did the best he could.
And that’s the thing about Uncle David. He took life head on, no matter what. He was a good man, larger than life, and irrepressible right till the end.
Goodbye Uncle David.