Dear Eileen and family.
Joe had; I thought, a wry sense of humour. He had the words for the unexpected, inexplicable, ridiculous and ironic things in life. He could be as dry as a Vodka Martini too. I remember him as one of the few real friends my late father had. They were there, together at the bar on all those big family get togethers. Thick as thieves. Laughing away the hours.
Sadly, of course, Parkinson’s is life changing. It makes the world of all it touches smaller. More complicated. Eileen, you and the girls appeared to cope with this with grace and patience. It cannot have been easy. You don’t get a choice. You just have to accept it. All it takes away.
I wanted to commend your dedication. It is with you in mind that I donate here gladly. I’m struck by how often you have found the time, already so precious to have stood by us in the frequent bad or sad times. But in memory of the good times too, mind. The days when we celebrated new bonds and births. There Joe would make a toast. There you all would laugh as we the children either ran around your ankles or were asleep on your lap. Paper plates of cake and sandwiches.
The days of summer. Fond remembrances.
Keep tight those memories.
Your cousin would have known just what to say this day, Eileen. I’m a poor substitute. God Bless Joe, Yourself, Nicky and Becky. Their families too. Mourn, look back and celebrate your story together.
Those were the days.
My Dad will have a drink already waiting. “To Joe”..
For the love of all those we have lost.
Condolences: Alan Tasker.
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