This is the poem I wrote for Dad. Dad had two strong arms to carry us when we were too tired to walk And a lifetime of wisdom when we wanted to talk. Always caring and faithful to our Mum, sharing parenting duties with love. Rarely contradicting her or putting himself above. On lazy walks through Woodland Woods on sunny summer Sundays He shared his knowledge of plants and trees, and of natures quirky fun ways. He told us stories of his childhood in those woods and more, And of his National Service days in the years after the war. Dad would play "horsey" with us on hands and knees across the floor Even though he'd been at work all day spreading plaster around a door. He happily ate the jam tarts we baked and proudly passed his way Even though the pastry could be hard, and sometimes even grey! Dad would make up stories to tell us when wee were settled in our beds, Then say goodnight and bend to kiss each of our sleepy heads. And he always kept a week in summer for a family holiday In a chalet or a caravan, so on the beach we could play. Anecdotes and memories he'd share with us for free. I suspect we each have our favourite ones, my sisters and me. On his 80th birthday at a family gathering He gazed around the table at us all laughing and joking. And a tear of pride slipped from his eye as he looked at us, each one When he realised just how big his little family had become! But after years of living without our Mum which had caused such loneliness Plus an illness that robbed him of his health and caused him much distress Dad breathed a sigh, and closed his eyes on the anguish and the stress. The time had come to follow Mum and regain that blissfulness! Now Dad is resting peacefully with our beloved Mum We will all keep cherished memories of this very precious one. Margaret T Bolt 05/01/2021 Always caring and faithful to our Mum, sharing parenting duties with love. Rarely rowing or contradicting her, or putting himself above. On lazy walks through the woods on sunny summer Sundays He shared his knowledge of the plants and trees and natures quirky fun ways. He told us stories from his childhood in those woods and more, And of his national service days in the years after the war. Dad would play "horsey" with the three of us on hands and kness across the floor

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Desmond. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.