As many of you will know, on Good Friday this year, my Dad died very suddenly. I am still struggling on a daily basis to accept that he is gone. I don't believe that i'll ever get over losing him so soon. My Dad had a couple of health issues, but nothing life threatening (that we were aware of until it was too late) and one of those conditions would have got progressively worse as he got older. So, I had fully prepared myself to have to spend more and more time taking care of him - even with the possibility of moving home to be nearer. This I expected to have to do for at least 20 years. He was only 65. What I hadn't prepared for was for him to not be here. Since his death, panic attacks, anxiety and vertigo have returned on a regular basis. This of course is whilst still battling migraines and all that goes with them. So needless to say that i've not been having a very easy time of things these past couple of months.
I wrote the eulogy for my Dad and I wanted to share it with you. It can give some of you a little glimpse of who he was and what he meant to me. Although in adult life our relationship was somewhat different, we were even closer and had a very good understanding of each other - especially as we were so alike in personality. I truly felt like he was one of the only people in my life who always had my back - no matter what. I cannot begin to describe what he meant to me and how much I miss him.
Ted Crawford Aug 1951 - April 2017
I truly never imagined that writing a Eulogy
for my Dad would come so soon. But without a doubt, it is my honour to
do so. This is just a small reminder of the things that made him who he
was… and I hope that it will help you to remember the part that he
played in your life, however small. Most of you knew him as Ted and as a
kid he was Teddy. For 5 of us he was Dad and he did get to be Grandad
too – 16 times to be precise!
In 1999 Dad moved to start a new life in Germany with Jackie and in 2004 they were married.
We
were very happy to have him back in England this past year. Despite his
riding days being over due to health issues, he never lost his passion
for all things cycling, often spending hours in his garage building his
own bikes from specialist frames and parts.
As a
kid, Dad had a little foray into the world of Football. His father had
played as a professional and Dad felt it only right to give his football
talent a test with try-outs for teams such as West Ham and Arsenal. He
played for the Arsenal youth team for a while, before deciding to settle
down and have his family. He always stayed active though, marching us
kids (and his beloved dog Buffy) around on walks for hours and then,
when we were older, he would go off cycling for miles and miles in full
Tour de France mode.
Dad was “King of Nicknames” –
none of us kids ever got referred to by our given names, we were
Peanut, Pugsley, Rim, Skippy Cheese and Frog. Even in later, adult life,
this is who we still were as far as he was concerned. Even his son in
law had the privilege of being named “Gadget” and one of his eldest
Grandsons became “Lightning”. In Dad’s mind, there was always a
perfectly valid reason and thought process for his invention of your
nickname, which I believe, made you feel even more special. Dad also
gave himself aliases on occasion, like the time he was approached by a
window salesman outside B&Q. He was, on that occasion, Mr Jacobs.
Dad
was always joking around and causing mischief when we were kids. He
always had time for us, whether it was sitting there for hours getting
his hair done in a make shift hair salon, playing sleeping giants,
chasing us round like an ape, or tickling us till the tears ran down our
faces. One of his favourite games was catching you right in the face
with his smelly sock that he’d launched from his position on his couch
and declaring with glee “Bullseye!”
Catchphrases
were a regular feature. If you decided to try and play him at his own
game, with tickling or sock throwing, he would announce that “you’re
gonna regret that”… Inevitably, a counter attack was launched and you
were then reminded that you were simply a “little pune”…
When
we were sick, he took care of us. He disciplined us and brought us up
to have manners, respect and good old fashioned human kindness. You
usually never repeated the behaviour that got you a clip round the ear,
but we never felt that he didn’t show us how much he loved us.
Lifesaving events included a rescue from the deep end of a swimming pool
and on more than one occasion, crashing through the water to reach the
blow-up boat we had fallen asleep in, before we drifted out to sea.
Working
from early morning with plenty of late nights too as a self-employed
Plumber, Dad always made sure we enjoyed a Summer Holiday on the West
Coast of France every year. Weekends and half terms usually involved
visits down to Portland in Dorset.
Music was a huge
part of what brought happiness to Dad. Hours of driving with us kids in
the van was always done with the likes of Bob Segar, The Drifters and
many others playing at full blast with us all singing along. Friday
nights at home, especially if he’d had a couple of pints at The Mill
Pub, Dad cracked out his vinyl and got playing on his Bass Guitar.
One
thing that Dad was never great at was his fashion sense. There were so
many attempts to help steer him in the right direction but he was
convinced that his slip on, tassled shoes from Freeman Hardy Willis were
“cool”. That may be so Dad. But not with white sports socks and cut
off combat trousers. I think this was another thing that made him his
own person. He just wore whatever he felt comfortable in, it was as
simple as that.
One of Dad’s favourtie sayings was “to cut a long story short” . He never did cut those stories short though. Until now.
Despite
the sadness that we might feel without him here, we can be thankful for
the life that we did have with him and hold onto our precious memories
until we can be reunited.
Some of Dad's favourite music:
