Thereās very little to add to what a group, made up broadly of strangers with a few close friends thrown in, have said about the man over the past few hours. Your words have described him beautifully, but for what itās worth, Iād like to add a few more.
He doted on his girls. His patience and love for them were exemplars. Then again, he could turn his hand to anything ā fatherhood, sport, teaching, carpentry, gardening. He was one of those guys that just got on with people, and he navigated the madness of the past two years with aplomb. He didnāt get too bent out of shape or ensconced in arguments on here, which is not an easy skill to master. I wouldnāt be a religious man by any stretch, but to me, he epitomised the allegory of the carpenter and his tools; the tools bickering over which was the best, when the carpenter walked in, put on his tool belt and proceeded to make an exquisite door. āI couldnāt have done it without each one of my tools.ā
He made no secret on here of his adoption. Your initial reaction might be one of sympathy for someone that went through what he did. He had such a positive outlook on life that, to him, it meant he had two families he was part of instead of one. Well, those two families are sadly coming to terms with a huge loss. Itās heartbreaking.
For those on here that knew him personally, and for those that only knew him through TFK, I am truly sorry for our collective loss. He was one of a kind, and I hope heās kicking points for fun in the great beyond.
Pomp and great friends may hem thee round,
A thousand busy tasks be found;
Earthās thronging beauties may beguile
Thy longing lovesick heart awhile;
And pride, like clouds of sunset, spread
A changing glory round thy head;
But fade will all; and thou must come,
Hating thy journey, homeless, home.