Dad was a twin, so identical
they were still mistaken for each other
into late middle age.
Which was always funny.
Dad was a runner,
running for sheer joy
so gracefully.
Keeping that joy into old age.
Dad was an artist,
an art school graduate who
gave it up to feed his family.
Only after his stroke did he paint once more.
Dad was a gardener,
after work checking his beloved tomatoes
before he saw his wife and children.
“But they’re my tomatoes.” he would say – and we forgave him.
Dad loved the outdoors,
walking children and grandchildren across fields
to watch rabbits and deer.
Dad was a friend to all,
and interested in everything
“Who is Dad talking to now” we would cry.
We lost him at at a stately home,
found him and Lord Bath discussing crockery
in the formal dining room.
Dad was a family man,
He loved his wife, children, grandchildren so much.
Everyone who met him found a new friend.
We will watch his grandchildren grow
Who is the runner? Who the artist? Who is the friend?
May they all be as kind.
And we will all remember his smile.
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For Trevor William Whysall, 1930 – 2005
This was my eulogy at Dad’s funeral in 2005. His grandchildren are all mostly grown up now. Art, sports, love and kindness feature largely in each of their lives. I am proud of them all. He would be too.
