I was totally unprepared to face Dad’s death, because I always believed he was indestructible. I think he did too – in fact, I think he’d be really cross about this turn of events. Particularly as his plans for recuperating from chemo over the next few months were already taking shape, and included a train trip across Europe; setting up a lime marmalade distribution network; a car tour of the UK (from Cornwall to Carlisle); making millions from an iPad app that he was going to call ‘DIY Dad’; buying a motorhome in which to drive across America and planning how to make the most of the next ski season. And after that, he was going to stop resting and get back to living at full speed! But he won’t do these things now, and we are left with a terrible void – I feel that a piece of the sun went out last Sunday. Dad was so warm, so funny, had such an irrepressible appetite for life, and such an uncontainable spirit that being around him did often feel like standing in a pool of sunlight. I’ve never known anyone with such an easy generosity or such an openness towards others and towards the possibilities of life. When he was young, he felt driven to build a legacy – something permanent. He did this many times over, and kept on building – homes, relationships, memories. He must be one of very few people who can die suddenly and leave their loved ones with the immense comfort of knowing that even though we have been denied years of his company, there was basically nothing left unsaid. He was intensely loyal to those he cared about, and he loved us without limits. There was so much love, and it was offered so freely, that the reservoir will stay full even though he’s not here anymore to top it up. Dad did face some very hard times in his life – he was physically an extremely strong man (and beat cancer twice), but emotionally he could be vulnerable. He spent a long time not being sure of his own worth, but that changed radically fifteen years ago when he met Nevenka. Seeing Dad and Nevenka together was a real treat – Nevenka loved him for being himself, matched his desire to experience as much of the world as possible with her own, and yet made him feel more grounded and at home than I think he had ever felt. Nevenka – thank you, so very very much, for all that you gave to Dad. I hope you can always feel his love and his warmth around you. Dad lived for too short a time. He died a few days after his 66th birthday. But he lived at least 150 years of life in his time, and he lived it really well. If he leaves anything to all of us, I hope it is a realisation, through his example, that we can fit into every unforgiving minute so much more than 60 seconds’ distance run, and that even if a life can be too short, it can never be too full - of family and friends, of energy and adventure, and of laughter and love.