Dad was a quiet, gentle man who was kind and caring. He loved his family and was particularly proud of his grandchildren and liked to hear about what was going in their lives and about their achievements be it personal, educational or sporting. Their photographs took pride of place on his mantelpiece. Dad had varied interests and a look at his bookcase summed them up – drawing, history, crosswords and puzzles, aeroplanes, wine, DIY, cooking, rifle shooting. He researched the Hayes family history and was a lifelong supporter of Arsenal football club and would have been most unhappy with their current run of form. He was an enthusiastic member of Spalding Rifle club for many years and made many good friends during this time. It was a hobby he shared with his younger brother Brian and they enjoyed a friendly rivalry although Dad would always acknowledge his brother was a better marksman than him. His formative early teenage years were spent during the second world war and this undoubtedly shaped his character. He hated waste and despaired of the 'throw away' generation and was frequently heard to say 'You would have been glad of that in the trenches' or 'It's clear you haven't lived through a war' when a minute piece of mouldy food that was 4 weeks out of date was being consigned to the bin by one of his daughters. He also talked about having to go to the air raid shelter when the siren sounded and told us that when a bomb exploded in Boston, the windows of the family home were shattered and he found glass all over his bed. Living through wartime also ensured that he was close to his siblings Marion, Dorothy and Brian and he was still visiting Marion in Detroit in his late 70s. He felt the loss of Marion and Dorothy very keenly and often said how much he missed them.He was a talented artist and enjoyed painting watercolours and was especially skilful in drawing churches and buildings and this talent was very helpful in his job as an architectural draughtsman. His close family are devastated that none of them as yet seem to have inherited his gift but we remain hopeful for the next generation!Dad was proud to be British and very fond of the beautiful country that we live in and wanted to show his children as much of the UK as possible. We had some fabulous family holidays – visiting Devon, Cornwall, Somerset, Yorkshire, Kent, Lake District, Wales, Scotland and everywhere in between. We have some wonderful memories of very happy holidays.Dad was a very independent person and was determined to stay in his own home for as long as he could. He achieved this with the assistance of the excellent care staff from Bluebird Home Care and the support of all his family. He only lived at Willoughby Grange for the last few months and despite his reluctance to move, admitted that the care he received there was first class. Dad was fond of telling stories and had some oft repeated favourite sayings such as 'the sun shines on the righteous' and 'you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear'. He also had many favourite stories which he would frequently relate. His favourite topic was about his motorbike which he rode to college in Nottingham each week. There are several stories about mishaps he had whilst riding the bike but his favourite story was about his own ingenuity to avoid the bike being stolen – yes, theft was a problem even in the 1950s! He hit on the idea of leaving the bike in the police station car park which was just around the corner from the college and of course there were no barriers or pass codes to negotiate in those days. He always chuckled about how he calmly acknowledged the officers who shouted out a greeting to him and the gateman who saluted him, believing he was a fellow police officer.Our favourite story of Dad's began in the summer of 1939 when the family had a short holiday away on the Lincolnshire coast. Dad was extremely excited when he was lucky enough to be bought a much desired kite. Unfortunately after acquiring the kite the weather changed and most unusually for the North Sea coast it was not windy enough to fly it. A few weeks later back at home, the
weather was deemed suitable at last and Dad set off for Central Park. He told us that he had just managed to get the kite airborne when his sister Marion came running into the park shouting 'Geoff, Geoff, mother says you have to come home straight away, war has broken out and you can't fly that kite'. The kite was taken home and packed away and by the time war ended six years later Dad considered himself at the age of 16 to be too grown up for kites. It remained a source of great regret to him.Dad - thank you for everything and we hope that wherever you are now, you are flying that kite at last.