Ten years ago today, John Arthur Mansfield, my Dad, died.
He was at home. Jenny, Tess and I had seen him that day and Mum was with him at the moment he breathed out for the last time.
He loved Stravinsky and Jazz music, Peter Sellers and Stan Freberg. He used to shout at the television when the football was on.
I still miss his bald head and his kind hands. I miss his constant support. I miss his sense of humour. I miss both his courage and his weakness.
We miss you, Dad.
Rest eternal grant to him, O Lord, and may light perpetual shine upon him.