Today is is the third anniversary of dad’s death.  We mark the day by lighting a memorial candle the evening before the date and this burns for 25 hours. it is traditional to wish the close relatives of the departed “long life”, which my grandson did last night when he telephoned me.  I asked him what he remembered about “Jops” ( his nickname for dad)  and he said that Jops used to take him up and down in the lift ” because you wouldn’t”. True, I have a fear of small, enclosed spaces so dad would take him for a ride up and diwn their block of flats.  He also indulged him by letting him hit and throw balls around the flat and not making him tidy up the stash of toys that they kept to keep him amused.  He was just as indulgent with my brother and me, allowing us to play cricket in the hallway of our small flat when we were kids.  He took us swimming, played tennis with us, watched our sports matches and tried to provide for our every need – making up for the deprivations of his own terribly poor childhood. His children, grandchildren and great grandchildren miss him but none more so than mum who enjoyed and relished 65 years of marriage.  They lived life to the full, making the most of every single day.  Mum never complains about her loss and today we wish her “long life” and look forward to having her with us for many years to come.