I have posted on the contribution I made to my dad's funeral in September 2026. Here is what my children, his grandchildren, said at the same service.
Katie
I feel very lucky to have had my grandfather in my life, and especially lucky to have known him not only as a grandparent, but as someone whose values, curiosity and kindness helped shape me.
As an adult, I have often reflected on how my grandparents accepted me joyfully, fully and completely as their grandchild. They never treated me any differently from my brother, their biological grandchild, and they welcomed my children into their family without hesitation. I am deeply moved by their openness and love, particularly because I know that not everyone, of their generation or otherwise, would have responded in the same way.
My grandparents retired very early but lived the fullest and richest post-career life you could imagine. Through all the voluntary work they did, they showed us what it meant to be committed to society and to contribute to their community. Their extensive travels and never-ending reading lists also showed how curiosity about the world, and the people in it, could enrich a life. My grandfather had been a teacher, and after retiring early he became a magistrate, a school governor and a Samaritan.
When we were children, he was quiet and reassuringly present, often sitting behind his newspaper while my grandmother played on the floor with us. She would devise wonderfully convoluted games from scrap paper and souvenirs from their travels, sometimes spending all week preparing them for us.
When I became a teenager, however, he would talk to me for hours about my schoolwork and help me revise. As my dad has said, he was passionate about education and always had time to talk through homework with me. While I was revising for a mock GCSE in Religious Education, he taught me about Bishop Berkeley and radical scepticism, and I used it in my exam. My teacher was so impressed that he chased me down the corridor, shouting to get my attention. My grandfather definitely fuelled my interest in philosophy, which became central to my studies at university and later in my MA.
My grandparents took us on trips to Alton Towers, Legoland, France and even Cuba. For my 21st birthday they took me to Amsterdam, just the three of us. I loved looking at the enormous paintings in the Rijksmuseum with them. I also loved that my grandad bought himself a pair of boxer shorts covered in tiny cannabis leaves as a souvenir, joking about how it would look if a magistrate were run over while wearing them.
When James and I were choosing a date for our wedding, I ran the possibilities past my grandparents. They told me that one of the dates was their wedding anniversary, and I immediately knew that was the date I wanted. My parents had not provided much in the way of relationship role modelling, but my grandparents did. They loved each other dearly, and they both showed it and said it. They complimented and balanced each other, so the date felt auspicious, and we have always been proud to share it with them. This year marked our tenth wedding anniversary and their sixty-sixth. I am so happy that they were at our wedding and became part of the life James and I built together. I am so grateful that my children knew and loved their great-grandparents.
He was kind and patient, and always generous with us, both materially and in spirit. When he was dying, he told me that Jake and I had been great joys in his life. Those words mean so much to me, and I will carry them with me always. I hope he knew just how much joy, love and wisdom he gave to all of us in return.
Jake
One of my strongest memories of childhood was going to our grandparents for Christmas. Driving up a deserted A23 on Christmas day, anticipating the warm welcome that was always there for us.
Brian and Christina would produce huge stockings and, to what I’m sure was the chagrin of our parents, would shower us with gifts all day.
The fridge and the cupboard under the stairs was always stocked with juice and little cans of coke, then as we got older beer, sherry and gin. A special vegetarian lunch was prepared for us. It characterised the kindness and open mindedness our grandparents always showed. Brian would be sitting on his chair, stoic but thoughtful and engaged. Quietly kind and generous.
No doubt he was the quieter partner in his marriage to Christina, and though he never was very keen on any phone conversation lasting longer than 30 seconds, he was keenly interested in our lives. Offering welcome support and encouragement, a sympathetic ear, and a few quid to help Katie and I as we navigated adulthood.
Brian and Christina’s marriage was inspirational to all who witnessed it. How lucky to find each other, and how much love, respect, and hard work there must have been to maintain such a strong bond. I never saw an unkind word between them, and the unwavering love that Brian showed to Christina in the last few years was deeply moving.
Brian was too modest to show off how intelligent he was, but he was profoundly so. His knowledge of world history, religion, and politics meant he always had great insight to offer any conversation. And we had many conversations, all sat around the living room in Bourne End, surrounded by books and newspapers.
On the walls and tables would be art and photographs that revealed how rich and adventurous their lives were. Of course their time in Africa, but visits to India, Vietnam and North America were represented. Sometimes this experience would inform the conversation, a brush with a giant historical figure would be casually mentioned, a crucial moment in 20th century history born witness to.
We would talk about football. Although he let his son follow the local team of Reading, he never lost his loyalty to his boyhood club of Wolverhampton Wanderers. The club were kind enough to give him something of a golden age the last few years, if you forget about last season.
When I started my own business it was with financial support from Brian and his mother, Hilda. Brian was eager to hear about business whenever we spoke. His pride and joy at my small successes, and his sympathy and understanding of the difficulties I faced, are among the things that would inspire me during tough times.
This is how I will remember Brian, a man who chose his words carefully, whose words always came from a place of love and support. Wise, kind, calm, and generous. Throughout his long and well lived life he helped and inspired many, and I’m proud that we can count ourselves among them.
Brian's Much Loved page
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