Sitting down to write something for today has been one of the hardest things I’ve had to do; not because I’m lost for things to say, or because I can’t find the right words, but because I’m finding them for the occasion that I’ve always dreaded. Despite knowing that this day was coming closer, nothing could have prepared me for actually losing my Pops; for saying goodbye that last time. 
 
I’ve felt quite cross since he left – I’ve felt that the poem Funeral Blues is exactly right; Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone… I’ve wondered why everyone is carrying-on as usual, when my life has come crashing down and is not usual any more. However, I know that Pops wouldn’t have wanted me to feel like this. He would’ve wanted things to carry-on as usual. He wouldn’t have wanted us to be sad – he didn’t even want all of this today! However, that being said, I know he would’ve secretly lapped-up the attention and if he was here, he would quietly say to mum at the end of it all: “cor, that was nice wasn’t it?!” 
 
Pops was an incredible man and I believe myself to be very lucky to have called him my dad. He was unique, with a heart of gold, a wicked sense of humour and a cheekiness that got him everywhere!  He was fiercely protective of us all and was so proud of his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, who he spoilt rotten with as many sweets, cakes, pork-pies and fish and chips they wanted. He always had time for the people that he met and seemed to make friends wherever he went. He was so unassuming and would have been genuinely shocked that he made such a lasting impression on so many people.
 
He was my hero even more so in the last few years when life became particularly difficult for him. It has been hard to watch, but each hurdle was met with his default jokes and charming ways, bringing smiles to all of those who treated him, despite the fear and uncertainty that he felt. 
 
I will forever be grateful to him for taking on this battle – grateful that he did as he was told (for once); it was far from easy for him, but in taking on this battle, we all got 3 more years with him and made more memories to cherish. I am lucky enough that my mind is flooded with the loveliest memories of times with him. He idolized all of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren and I feel truly blessed that my girls got the last 3 years with him, making memories with him whilst they were old enough to remember and look back on as they get older. I asked them for some of their favourite memories of him to share with you today: 
India has written poem which we’ll read today. Elsie said that she loved his huge hugs and how much he made her laugh.
And their memories go with some of mine most precious ones: 
• Super-early morning adventures to London in his truck to do deliveries and see the sights;
• Take away pick-ups where we’ve ordered ¾ of the menu and then both ask for “diet” cokes;
• Him being a helper on my school trip at age 7; Like with most people he was an instant hit with my class-matesand insisted that and everyone called him “Dave” and not “Mr Goddard”. When we got to the farm, everyone naturally wanted to be in “Dave’s” group, but as his daughter I wasn’t allowed and spent the rest of the school trip being grumpy, insanely jealous stuck with another “boring” mum, whilst all the other children held hands with MY dad!
• His questionable use of leftovers to make the next day’s meals – Kebab Curry will forever haunt me.
• Giving me lifts to Liverpool on my nights out, playing all my favorite dance tunes… and picking me up several hours later when I’d spent my taxi money on gin and cranberries!
• Walking me down the aisle and seeing how happy he looked at me marrying Chris
• Taking him shopping for the first time in his wheelchair – he spent the entire shop shouting at me for “pushing him like I drive… too f-ing fast”
• Always waving goodbye like it might be the last time, waving until he could no longer see you
• Seeing how happy he was to see Uncle John and Aunty Marion recently
• Feeding him ice-cream when he wasn’t quite strong enough to feed it to himself

Pops always supported me; he taught me that I am enough and to never accept less that I deserve. He taught me strength and to always speak for what I believe in. He was always encouraging and always supportive. He was also super sweary, much to the delight of India and Elsie! 
 
I loved him dearly and my love for him, like my memories, will never fade. He will forever have the most precious place in my heart – we will think of him always and talk about him often. I encourage you all to do the same; share your stories of him and remember him with fondness and a smile on your face. He would like that. 
 
So, Pops – not goodbye, but instead I’ll use your signature farewell… “see you soon; be good”.