I have learned that people will forget what you said,

people will forget what you did,

but people will never forget how you made them feel.

Maya Anglou

As we say goodbye to my dad, we take comfort in knowing that he lived a life well-lived.

He touched the hearts of so many people here today and left a lasting legacy that will continue to inspire us for years to come. We will miss him dearly, but we will never forget the love, joy, and laughter that he brought into our lives. Hopefully over the next few minutes as I recall some of the values Dad shared you will remember James Donald Reed and how he made you feel.

 

We are here to  celebrate the life of our dad, Husband to Mum and grandad to Stephanie, James and Emily. He was also wonderful father-in-law to Sarah and Helen and a friend to all of you here.

 

He was a happy person that lived life for family and to serve others. He was a man of great character, who always put the needs of others before his own. He had a contagious smile that could light up any room and a heart of gold that touched the lives of everyone he met. I am sure as we remember him today the stories he leaves in our memory will brighten up your day. That’s our hope. We put a smile on our faces. He would have liked that.

 

I stand here on behalf of the family to honour our father, James Donald Reed - DON, who was a remarkable man and  whose presence in our lives meant more than words can say.

First I would like to thank everyone over the last few weeks who have reached out, sent messages, spoken to Mum, me and generally been really nice to the whole family. It means a lot to us all to know Dad – Don – was so well loved and respected.

It also means so much that you are all here today. It really does. Dad was a worrier, and he was worried all his friends had died and nobody was left. Thanks for proving he had friends across the generations.

Let me be clear. I enjoy public speaking as some of you know. - I usually appreciate a captive audience - But today is different.

This is the talk I have never wanted to give.  It is worth mentioning at this stage that I am usually way too emotional to deliver anything remotely like a Eulogy. I crumble and cry at the slightest thing. This is going to be almost impossible for me to get through, so please bear with me. My beautiful assistant, My wife sarah is on standby! Plan c is for Paula to step in!  Sarah has suffered years of having to listen to me speak like this so it would be fitting for her to rescue me today.

But this is not a sad time. It is a time to give thanks for Dad and his life. It is a time of celebration of a life well lived and one of service to others. Dad as we shall see always liked a joke and to make light of every situation. Even when he was really ill towards the end we didn’t talk too much about the funeral but he did admit something funny happening with the lights would be right up his street. I dread to think what practical joke he would have come up with if we had let him design this service?

You have heard from Paula about his life, where he grew up, where he went to school and how he and Mum met. But I wanted to remember the qualities that Dad brought to our family and by the looks of the number of you here today – to a wider community of people.

There are countless stories and memories I could share about my dad, but what stands out the most was his unwavering kindness and compassion. He had this unique ability to make everyone feel welcomed and valued, always lending an ear to those in need. He was always there to help. He would do anything for anyone. Like the time my college friend David McNicol bought himself a dilapidated caravan instead of a flat in Southampton and was moving to Rutland – owning a car without a tow bar was a slight disadvantage. But Dad jumped in, drove down to Southampton, picked up the caravan and drove it back to Rutland where we left David in a field! 

He was a volunteer driver with Parkinson’s Society in Leics when they needed him. He always enjoyed driving and was a walking Google Map. He boasted to me all through early years that he had been down every street in Leicester. I thought this was amazing until I he showed me Every Street in leicester on the map! On one of his volunteer days the PD society had a day trip at Great Central Railway. Dad picked up the lady he was escorting that day and dutifully dropped her of at Quorn I believe. Several hours later he came back to pick her up and drop her back off in Kirby Muxloe, I think. I remember him saying she wasn’t as chatty as he expected about the day out. It was only when he drew up outside her house that the penny dropped. She asked why they had stopped. This wasn’t her house. In fact, Dad had of course just grabbed the first person that vaguely looked like the person he had dropped off a few hours before. Nowadays this would be logged as a serious safeguarding case, or even a kidnap but thankfully at the time it was laughed off as ‘Just Don’

 

These things also always happened to dad too. When he became less able to drive they both started getting a taxi to the Dentists in Belgrave. The parking was such a nightmare for them. They got their taxi there and the driver said he’d be happy to do the return journey and he would see them later. As they came out of the dentist a driver was outside and signalled them across. They got in and were heading off home. Or so they thought. Dad as I said knows his way around so well he knew quite quickly the driver was taking a strange route back up Belgrave Road. It was only after about 15 mins when the driver pulled up in one of the estates the other side of Leicester they both realised something was wrong and thought hey may have been kidnapped! Once they worked out the mistake the guy got them home safely and didn’t even charge them for the scare he’d caused!

 

These stories happened almost every day. As a family we always ate meals together. As da got home and sat down for dinner he would start every mealtime, with

            You’re not going to believe this, but I went to this Woman’s House today…. And off would reel a 15 minute anecdote, from the bored housewife, to the time he was shot in stocking farm (with an airgun thankfully) or came home with a brace of pheasants after helping a farmer get the electric back on in the middle of milking. We told him he should have written a book as he tells these stories so much better than anybody I know.

 

Of course, as much I loved Dad it took time for the lessons he was teaching me to sink in. He was ‘careful’ with money right up to the end. He never wanted to spend any money he didn’t need to. Even in the Care Home at the end he complained they washed his clothes unnecessarily Every DAY!

He taught me to be careful with money – as anybody who knows me has seen me near the bar. But it was a lesson about saving to spend. He never bought a car on credit. He would only buy what he could afford.

He was cautious and worried about things and people. In a caring way of course. But he could always see the downside of anything and articulate it. You always had to acknowledge there was a downside and you’d thought about it.

He was a cheat. A prolific cheat. He taught me everyhting I know about cheating at Monopoly and other Board games.  But He always let you know he was cheating; it was part of the fun! Even at Charades he would have us tears of laughter as he broke the rules to have a laugh first! He knew we knew he was up to something and it all became part of the enormous fun he would bring to any situation.  

 

He lived his life with a strong sense of looking after others and right or wrong…. Except when it came to family games!

 

He never took himself too seriously and was just as likely to laugh at his own mishaps as those of others. Even in his own failing health, he could  create a funny story if it would create a laugh.

He knew how to bring the fun to the party even when others at family Christmas were trying to speed things up or games to be played seriously and properly!

 

He even tried cheating at portion size when dishing up puddings. I think I followed his sweet tooth for a good pudding, and he would distribute whatever Mum had cooked after the main course, but as grew up there came a time that his enormous portion size compared to ours wasn’t justifiable by age difference. You just couldn’t get him to give out equals portions, So we had to devise a simple system. Whoever cut up the cake or gave out the pudding had to let the others choose which portion they would have? That’s the only way we finally got him to cut things into perfect quarters!!

Even the grandchildren took time to get wise to his tricks. I am sure Stephanie will tell you more, but James finally worked out when they played Matersmind he had to sit with his back to the patio windows, until he realised you could see the reflection of the game in the glass! Dad was always one step ahead…

Even though he was only at Cedar Mews for 8 weeks and not at his funny best as the illness took hold and made him a little confused, I think he still made an impression, trying to lighten the mood when he could with his side comments and smile!

 Don Reed escape story

We can never be grateful enough to the team and staff at Cedar Mews, and it would be wrong to single out people for fearing missing others, But Sukhi, James, Julie, Claire etc you know looking after Dad wasn’t just a job!

Stories and anecdotes – sum up Dad. He was brilliant story teller. Even simple anecdotes were turned into beautiful tales.

Dad Eulogy - stories 

He was a doing person. His caravan and the bowls club in later years became a massive part of his life.  When we bought the Bowls club membership for his retirement, we worried we’d made a mistake. But after 2 weeks of him and mum going together, he said she could stay at home and he’d be fine. He was there three days a week for over 25 years. Even in the Care home he was desperate to get a bowls league going. Days before he passed, he was giving instructions about how he could be captain of one side and poor unsuspecting carer could look after a staff team!

 

The caravan club became their thing for a generation – weekends away and holidays were all with friends and the caravan. Like everyhting he took it seriously to help. He would offer to help and became a Marshall organinsg weekends. He was the king of the quiz and event planning! On a caravan rally he would be there set up early sitting outside his van waiting to see if anybody needed any help. Up he would pop to fetch caryy, move or just make a cup of tea.

But moving around  the country with a caravan wasn’t always without incident. I remember us blowing a tyre in the contraflow of the M5 causing traffic havoc for the day. I was at the age a teenager least wants to be embarrassed sitting on the side of the motorway. I recall a few years later listening to radio 5 live traffic updates when news came of complete gridlock around Diss in Norfolk. I knew Mum and da were out that way and hoped they hadn’t been inconvenienced by the traffic hold up. It only turned out late that night when we caught up with them on the phone that they HAD been the cause of the chaos. The car and caravan had broken down whilst switching lanes into a right turn and manged to block BOTH lanes of the dual carriageway for an hour before the police and AA had arrived to move the car into the B&Q car park nearby! Mum fund herself sitting in the police car hiding from angry motorists!

 

 

In a blog I did on my initial reaction to Dad passing  I noticed that nobody at these events ever cares about the salary, the car driven or the size of house the person lived in. None of what seems to matter to us in life seems to matter now. We care about his soul. What did he do for others, how did he treat his family and friends. Was he happy, did he smile. Did he help others and care for strangers.

Dad was my political focus group. He wasn’t political. He wasn’t really into rugby. But because I was into these he was there for me at every twist and turn. He stood on the touch line of cold wet muddy fields to support me through to County Schools rugby - standing alongside the ‘rugger dads’ from the posh schools. And because he wasn’t interested in politics I was able to test every policy and message on him for his unfiltered opinion.

You see my Dad was Mondeo man. He literally owned a red Ford Mondeo (which he proudly drove around in 1997 blaring out Things Can Only Get Better - our ‘97 anthem - on his makeshift Tannoy on the roof.

Dad didn’t have to tell me if he was proud. He didn’t do that sort of thing in words. He just turned up and supported us. On the rugby pitch. On the doorstep, in Westminster or even collecting my OBE.

Dad was a semi skilled electrician who worked for the various guises of the Electricity Board over 30 years - fitting Meters, fixing domestic electrics and home appliances. He left work in 1997-98 with a letter of thanks and a reminder that in 30 years he had never generated a complaint about his service to customers. His diligence in the end was what killed him. He would never have questioned the authorities over the safety of his work, despite the fact that we now knew these bosses were aware of some of the dangers of asbestos.

Dad worked hard. He took overtime when he could. When they lived in the Northfields estate in Leicester, he wanted to create a life for his family in the suburbs- moving to Birstall in 1966. He didn’t want fancy cars and fancy things around the house, but he wanted us to be comfortable putting food on the table and being able to take our week long holiday at Cliftonville in Kent once a year. He was what we would now call part of the aspirational working class. He wanted his children to have more opportunities than his parents (shoe workers in Leicester). And he was prepared to work hard to achieve his dream. He didn’t expect us to do wonderful or amazing things with our lives, but to be able to get a good education and a decent well-paid job. He wasn’t sure about letting me go to university- he thought I was just putting off going to work and doing a proper job. But he was proud when I graduated and got my first job in local government.

He was a from a generation that saved up the money to pay for a holiday and even a car. He wouldn’t use credit to pay for things they couldn’t afford by saving. This is certainly something I have instilled in my own financial planning.

He was funny. He loved making people laugh. He served the local community through the Boys Brigade, local church, the caravan club and latterly Loughborough indoor bowls club. He was a club man through and through. Never one for badges accolades or ceremony. He would quietly take on the jobs that needed doing. He expected other to pull their weight too and would get along with anyone as long as they played by the rules.  

If the country was made up of more people like Dad it would be a better place. Tolerant as long as you played by the rules. Willing to help anyone with any job or errand he could do and all of these things done with a laugh or smile. And he always had a funny story. Every day he would come home from work and say - You’re not going to believe this, but I went to this woman’s house today…. And funny things always seemed to happen to him!

 

Dad made people happy and made them laugh. He had no life plan and didn’t work out his purpose driven life. He just lived a happy family life thinking of others and how he could help. He got no medals, awards, or much formal recognition and nor did he seek or expect any. Yet he leaves a lot of people sad this week because of who he was and how happy he made them feel. At this stage nobody cares about your job titles, salary, or car you drive (Dacia btw).

If only more of would focus on how we make people feel.

He wasn’t somebody who always pushed me and Ash hard in life. You hear of stories of inspirational dads pushing you to be the best version of yourself.  He didn’t do that. And I am grateful. He taught us other values of hard work, integrity, and selfless sacrifice.  If you know Dad that wasn’t the point of life. It wasn’t about personal advancement. In fact he wondered if my only motivation to go to University was to get out of doing a proper job for a few more years. And you know he was partially right. I had worked out that even if I started work at 25 there was probably another 40 years ahead of me!! You don’t need a degree, a title, or a badge to be a good person.

 

Stories

He was of course well known for the Christmas lights he started putting up in his garden initially for the grandchildren but subsequently they great to the point his charity evenings with mince pies for the various church groups were legendry. Hundreds of pounds were raised each year from these events for the various Monday or Thursday group causes. If he was still with us he would be well into setting up his lights for a December 7th Birthday launch! They were certainly missed last year when he became too old to put them up.

Because he was careful with his money he always bought the lights in the New Year sales at various Garden centres. One year he was at Gates Nursery when he found a broken box with some great light that were a bargain. Being an electrician he just wanted to make sure they worked and were safe so he asked on of the young assistants if they could test them. He went behind the cash desk and plugged them in. As soon as flicked the switch there was an almighty bang as the lights, cash tills and even doors all closed down after he had blow a fuse. Dad looked at the lad and – oh its ok I think I’ll leave them!

 

And we know it is fine to laugh in church.

Many years ago we were all here as a family, possibly with a Young Wives event. I know Mum was at the front with lots of the ‘Young Wives’ and something happened that Dad sneakily joked/ said something under his breath to us which we found funny. It was a very serious moment in the service and me Dad and Ash tried to hold our laughter in. Of course, the more you try the harder it becomes. The old green pews were literally rocking as we tried harder and harder until I the end it burst out , and wow did we get a look of disgust from Mum… I am sure Dad would have been told off later that night!  

He was always nicely scared of Mum!

They were wonderful together and it was fantastic to see them at Cedar Mews have a celebration meal for their 65th Wedding anniversary. They were inseparable and did everyhting together. He was sort of stubborn but Mum tried! When she put him on a diet he was quite well behaved but couldn’t work out why he was never hungry and not losing much weight. We all later discovered his secret stash of chocolate bars, which were consumed when she was at Church evenings out and then the wrappers carefully folded and placed under the cushions of the setae. Carefully folded quite a few could be stashed. He never wanted Mum seeing the wrappers in the outside bin. They were moved only when it was safe to do so!!

 

As we say goodbye to my dad, we take comfort in knowing that he lived a life well-lived. He touched the hearts of so many people and left a lasting legacy that will continue to inspire us for years to come. We will miss him dearly, but we will never forget the love, joy, and laughter that he brought into our lives.

 

Quote Einstein:-

"I believe in one thing—that only a life lived for others is a life worth living."

 

Thanks dad. You certainly passed that test.  Goodbye and thanks for everything you did for me, and your family and the memories we will cherish forever. You are still with us in our hearts.

 

Rest in peace, Dad. We love you."

 

 

ends