Dad 
I remember dad once telling me joined the RAF to escape from the life others had planned for him – I think he said it was for him to becomes a mining engineering – but the idea of studying A level maths and physics ( which might explain where his grandson Sam got his love of Physics from cos it certainly wasn’t from me) and then University didn’t really appeal.  I think dad really wanted to be a mechanic, his love of speed and motorbikes had already taken hold and the RAF sounded exciting.  He had been a child in the war and the idea of being a fighter pilot had a certain glamour and romance, something I think his everyday life in the early 1950’s was sadly lacking.  I don’t think it had even occurred to him that there were other roles in the RAF, but the selection process had other ideas and he joined as aircrew a radio operator.  He was to go on officer training and spent most of his life in the RAF as a navigator and when the flying stopped , he flew a desk, becoming responsible for the welfare of those around him and because he had come up through the ranks understood the issues facing the men he represented and they respected and admired him for it. 
 
My dad was first and foremost a people person, he genuinely liked people -  he took the time to get to know someone,  - he was genuinely interested in people -  he remembered peoples husbands/wifes/childrens pet goldfish names in a way most of us haven’t got a hope of doing and people responded to it.  He would always try to help if he could imparting his knowledge and wisedom in a gentle way and if you ignored it, and as I child I often did, he would still come and scoop you up and set you right again, without recriminations.  As I parent now myself, I know the hardest thing is to let your child fail when you can see all the dangers and pitfalls that they cannot, but dad was there to watch over us and set us right again. 
When I think of my dad it is hard not to picture him covered in engine oil, tinkering in his garage.  He spent many happy hours out there rebuilding things -   old motorbikes, new motorbikes, various Austin Sevens and MG sports cars – for a long time we had 3 out the front of our house, one that actually ran and two for spares  because the true love of his mechanical life Misses Frequently,  was out of action whilst he rebuilt her from scratch.  Misses Frequently was his name for an old Austin Seven Arrow sports car that he loved to bits, literally to bits, it was probably 25 years old when he bought it in the early 1960’s ,  it always required attention, and when the make do and mend of many years failed her, and most people would have consigned her to history, not my dad, no  he chose to rebuilt her, by hand from scratch.  
Most of my childhood memories involve old car and steam engine meets, rifling though auto jumble looking for parts, and when the parts simply did not exist, which they often didn’t , trips to Uncle Henry and his shed filled with lathes  and all sorts of mechanical tools and watching the magic of  Henry and Dad make another one.   
I think even then,  I recognised that if you want something badly enough there is always a way and dad wasn’t going to let a silly thing like someone saying it didn’t exist stop him do it.  He had a quiet determination.  If dad set his mind to it, it would happen. 
In later life I know my dad loved his grandchildren dearly.  He got to spend time with them in a way I think he missed when we were small due to his job taking him away for weeks on end.  He supported them with there madcap ideas, answered endless questions of  WHY …. and shared his world with them.  When my children were small they would go to stay with nanny and grandad for several weeks in the summer holidays, mum and dad being stationed in Germany my children didn’t get to see them as often as they would like.  I remember their excitement, the pirates on the red deck of the overnight ferry, the hours of driving to get there and  I remember them wanting rid of me as soon as possible after we had got there so they had nanny and grandad all to themselves…….  Back home I would get excited phone calls telling me of all the wonderful things they had done. Small children don’t have politeness filter, they tell it like it is, and mine thought nanny and grandad were the best grandparents in the world.  
I know there is huge void in all our lives with his passing.  I miss you more that you will ever know.  I 
love you dad.