Steven Peter Tuppenney 'Steve' (8 Sep 1965 - 2 May 2016)

A Life Well Lived

A life well lived is a precious gift
Of hope and strength and grace,
From someone who has made our world
A brighter, better place
It’s filled with moments, sweet and sad
With smiles and sometimes tears,
With friendships formed and good times shared
And laughter through the years.
A life well lived is a legacy
Of joy and pride and pleasure,
A living, lasting memory
Our grateful hearts we’ll treasure

A eulogy to Steven:

From birth Steven drew people to him. The blue-eyed, blonde-haired baby bouncing along in the pram commanded attention. It was impossible for people to pass by without delighting in this captivating baby. The pride that Peter and Marie felt for their cherished first born, was later echoed in the pride his four sisters felt for their big brother. The brood of five, setting off for school in smart blazers and berets was wonderful to be part of. Steven had charmed the primary school headmaster from the outset, with his bright enthusiasm for learning and the path was cleared for his sisters to follow.
Family life was a happy jumble of teasing, adventures and comedy. It was never dull at 37 Oastview, and as everyone grew, the house was constantly full of friends. It was a wonderful place to be. Steven continued throughout his teenage years, to buzz with intense interest and enthusiasm. He knew how to enjoy things to the maximum. He had a bunch of great mates, he had his music, his fashion sense, his good looks, his computer, his cars and his sense of fun. Most of all he had his mind. He seemed to blaze through university and postgraduate studies, accumulating loyal friends along the way. He similarly progressed through several jobs, always trusted and respected for his efficiency and skill. He was the perfect epitome of the 1980’s “yuppie” for a while – working hard and playing hard.
Steven was honourable and loyal. In an era of masculinity, he bucked the trend to be true to his caring nature.
When Steven and Nikki got together, it strengthened an already close bond the family had with Nikki. Now it was Steven’s turn to feel proud! He relished his new role as partner to Nikki and father figure to Robin. He had traditional values, and wanted to provide and care for his new family. It wasn’t long before Poppy came along, and the unconditional love, that parents know, was unleashed in Steven.
That beacon of love sustained Steven throughout all the subsequent chapters of his life.
Steven always knew how lucky he had been to get together with Nikki. When they went their separate ways, he knew he was privileged to have such a competent and loving mum for Poppy. He was always sincere in his praise of Nikki and the gratitude he felt for the amazing daughter she raised and how she kept the close links with the family in his absence. He never took it for granted.
In Thailand, Steven found a gentle and tolerant culture that fascinated him. He looked at the Buddhist philosophy and felt connected to the timeless wisdom. Whilst it was work that had lured him to Thailand, it was love that kept him there. He met and married Pim, his kindred spirit and his hard working, ambitious equal. True to form it was a blend of work and play for Steven and Pim. They built a lovely house and created a loving home – filled with feline bundles of joy! Morecambe, Wise, Ronny and Dawson the Doug, the cats he loved to hate. Steven and Pim travelled widely, and wined and dined with friends. Steven always wanted to share his good fortune and pleasure with those he loved and always extended an invitation for people to visit him in Thailand. He was overjoyed when he was able to host Katie and Nigel on their honeymoon. He was equally thrilled when he and Pim were able to come to England to surprise mum on her birthday.
Steven was an intellectual. He was committed to learning. He grasped cosmological concepts with ease and grappled with philosophy and ethics. He loved to have a meeting of minds on a subject, and his many friends can attest to challenging debates and stimulating conversations with Steven. At the same time he had a perverse sense of humour. He delighted in the dry wit of Spike Milligan and the inanity of Monty Python.
An example of Steve’s ability to hold on to and appreciate humour is evident within the following very recent recollection from his Dad that had them both laughing:
Steven: My blood pressure is so low, but I don’t know how to get it up.
Dad: I do.
Steven (with genuine interest and fascination): How?
Dad: Having a son like you!
To remember Steven is to fill your mind with snapshots of the past; feel the warmth of his words and deeds; enjoy the adrenaline of the adventures and mishaps and hear the ringing of your own laughter accompanied by the low chuckle of his satisfaction at making you smile.

A Thank You from Steven written by Maria:

To My Dearest Friends

Thank you for the fun times we have shared over the years, the nights out, the discussions and the debates. For answering my many many phone calls. Because of you I was never lonely.

I love you

To My Sisters Maria, Suzanne, Hayley and Katie and my Brothers In Law Martin, Steve, Martin and Nigel and not to forget my late brother in law John.

Thank you for your help and advice. You all gave me the attention I craved in so many ways, the medical advice, the honesty, the running around after me, the laughs, the lifts to and from the airport, the family gatherings and barbeques and the stories and updates of the lives of Charlie, James, Anna, Alice, Aiesha, Elowen, Rowan, Derry, Sammy and Holly your lovely children.

I love you

To Nikki My very special friend and fantastic mother of Robin and Poppy

Thank you for all you have given me over the years, your love, your support, your tolerance and my daughter Poppy.

I love you

To my very special wife Pim

Thank you for loving me with all your heart. My life with you in Thailand was a precious gift. You mean the world to me.

I love you

To My Mum and Dad

Thank you is not a big enough word to express my feelings for the way you have looked after me from the moment I was born until the moment I closed my eyes for the last time. You are so special you have cherished me and loved me unconditionally.

I love you

To Poppy, my precious, lovely, clever Daughter. I am your Dad and I will always be with you. I love you with all my heart.

Mike Edwards tribute:

My wife, Kerry, and I were at Dover Castle on a wild, misty May Bank Holiday, on the second of May. We had just gone through the beautiful, intimate chapel built by Henry II in memory, I believe, of Thomas a Beckett, and we had made a small donation for Steve as we knew how unwell he was after seeing him the previous afternoon in Medway Hospital.

As we left the thickly walled castle some minutes later I saw I had missed calls from Nikki and Bill, and feared they would contain bad news. And unfortunately so it turned out. We must have been in the chapel pretty well as Steve passed away.

Steve was a great friend of mine, and of other people here today, like Bill, Darren, John and Dan.

Steve and I bought our first house together in 1987, in Luton in Chatham. We used to, on occasion, go out in make up to clubs and pubs, in the hey-day of David Sylvian, Duran Duran and the New Romantics. To shock other people, I also recall Steve and I occasionally having a snog! I hope Pim and Nikki won't mind me saying, but in many ways I feel I was Steve's first wife!

In my eyes, Steve epitomised cool. He looked like David Sylvian, he had good looking girlfriends, wore great clothes, had a Korg synthesizer, listened to the coolest music, and, to crown it all, he not only had one Ford Carpri, he went on to buy a second one!

More seriously, he was always a thinker. He read Satre, Sagan, Hawkins, Dawkins, Grass, Friedman and the life of the Buddha. He was a polymath and fiercely inquisitive and intelligent. It was never a dull moment when you were with Steve.

Even in his last few weeks and months, when Marie and Peter looked after him hand and foot, and he was quite disabled, barely mobile and in pain, he remained resolutely positive and cheerful. He really was a trooper.

I am sure I speak for other friends here today when I say that we will really miss him.

What was it like having a brother like Steven?
It was never predictable, conventional or boring even.
The oldest of five his place was always well set,
To tease, prod and poke to predictable effect.

For Maria it was different; one sister was okay,
It was with 2, 3 and 4 – you can imagine his dismay!
Poor Suzanne was the first focus of his playful fun,
Bedroom door trapped shut and off he would run..
Then along came Hayley, previous strategies he rejects.
The new plan? Poisoned twice with his chemistry sets.
Finally me, what fate could possibly be mine?
I was pegged out and left to dry on the washing line..
To have had four sisters might have seemed like a curse,
But for someone who loved to tease, it could have been worse.

With the passing of time, a new advantage he found,
His sisters’ teenage friends hanging around..
We all cooked, cleaned and chauffeured – even now we wonder why?
‘Why have a dog and bark yourself’ would be his mischievous reply.
Steven could not offend, he was never two-faced,
Equally criticism of him was received with good grace.

Steven had many friends, and a beautiful wife,
He travelled, experienced fine things and enjoyed his life.
Mum and Dad have adored him, their one and only son,
He’s tested their patience, but always with a sense of fun.
Will we miss his phone calls that came late at night?
His desire to chat when the timings not right?
Yes we will, we find ourselves surprised to say,
Because that was him, he was ours and now he’s gone away.

In true Tuppenney style, we have tried not to be soppy,
But this could not conclude without some mention of Poppy.

Steven loved many people, but his best was reserved,
for his pride in his daughter – so rightfully deserved!
His smile, wit and intelligence – there could have been no other,
So ‘Cheers!’ big Bro, our lovely, lovely, brother xx

From Catherine Edwards:
I probably first met Steve thirty-five years age. He was at Gillingham Tec with my brother Mike; I was there too, two years below. Steve came to the Edwards home many times over the years and of course he and Mike got the house together in Luton (did they ever clean it?). Steve was always very welcome as he was always polite and respectful both to my parents and myself.
I last saw Steve, with Mike, in a pub in Rainham about a year ago. I was sad to see him unwell.
I did actually ‘go out’ with Steve, very briefly, we are talking weeks here, when I was 16, innocent situation and we were such opposites – me left wing and CND, he the Thatcher opposite!
I very clearly remember Steve then, good looking, lots of blonde hair, bit of a chubby face and the sort of giggle. He was fun to be around and he had a car – blimey that was fun and gave me status with my friends! That Capri. And it was Steve who introduced me to the music of Bryan Ferry – thank you Steve for that.
Steve was just a distant friend but I remember him fondly. When we were friends we were teenagers, the sun was shining and everything seemed possible.
I am so sorry for your loss. It must be terribly difficult. And for all Steve’s family and friends. I know Mike is very sad too – he and Steve went back a long way.
I have sent a sunny card. I hope that you don’t mind. I really remember Steve at The Tec, and in Luton, confident, happy, intelligent, fun and living life to the full. That is how I want to remember him.
With my very best wishes, Cath.

May you feel at peace Steve, love Suzy xx

So many memories of you in Southampton, Steve, always full of fun and mischief. Thanks for all the laughter. Rest in peace.

Said my final farewell yesterday to one of the nicest human beings I've ever had the pleasure of knowing - Steve Tupps.
Knowing Steve for over 30 years, seeing each other through good, bad, happy, sad, normal, abnormal, traumatic and ecstatic times, has kept us close friends all these years.
A mutual love and respect for each other and always making time when needed. I bent his ear a few times as he did mine - and as his beautiful sisters said - it was often at 2 in the morning!
I will miss you my friend. You were one great individual who has impacted my life and made a huge dent in my heart and soul now you've gone. But it will always stay there, you're unforgettable.
There will never be another Steve Tupps. Intelligent, caring, loving, generous, kind, thoughtful and I am honoured to say you were my friend and I yours.
Your wonderful family, so similar to mine, just a few more of you, but just as close. I cannot begin to comprehend how all of you are feeling but know that Steve is so proud of each and everyone of you. Your love and support of him during all his life, but more recently through his illness, you've all been so strong alongside him. He often talked about all of you and loved you all as much as you loved him.
Marie - you are one truly amazing, stoic and brave lady. I have so much admiration for you and Steve was just as lucky to have you as his mum.
Peter - you must feel proud of Steve. He was such a clever and proud man and I think he got this from Dad.
Steve - I will miss you but thank you for being part of this life, for me. You were a true gentleman, but above all - a gentle man! I love you Steve. God bless - even though you've always been an atheist - you often said 'God bless' to me - xxxxJuliexxxx {{{}}} never ending hugs.

said a final 'goodbye' yesterday to my very dear friend, Steve Tupps.
Knowing him for the past 30 odd years, now both in our 50's, we've seen each other through good, bad, normal, abnormal, ecstatic and traumatic times in the circle of our lives.
A mutual love and deep respect for each other, knowing we were just a phone call away, always there to lend an ear, (because as all his beautiful sisters said - he loves a chat !) is what has kept us friends for so long.

I will miss you my friend. There will never be a another, so endearing, caring, loving, generous, intelligent beyond my capabilities and quirky, as my friend Steve. He was unique - that also made him special.
I will always feel truly grateful that he walked through my life's path, and I, his. My life has been enriched by knowing Steve.
I can't begin to express how I felt whilst away in Spain when I received the call to speak to Steve during his last few days. I was honoured to be included at such a sad time for his mum and dad and all his sisters.
I have so much admiration for Marie and Peter. Their commitment, love and care to their eldest son over the past few years, months and weeks is phenomenal. I cannot begin to comprehend the pain they must be feeling. I have 2 sons and a daughter and could not begin to understand the impact of losing any of them.
Steve was one in million, a true gentleman and a 'gentle man'.
He never changed, even through all,his pain he would ring me and say 'I'm not important, you are. I'm so worried about you.'

I would ask him how he was and he would always say the same thing. A 'selfless' man of high integrity. I admired him and his courage.
My dear friend Steve Tupps - I am privileged to call you my friend and I love you so much.
God bless (he even said that to me a few times even though he was an atheist! He was such a silly arse!
Julie xxx

All Our Love now rest x

In memory of Steve, a life cut short too soon.

Our love and prayers for you Steve and you loving family. God Bless xxx

Our love and prayers for you Steve and your loving family. God Bless xxx

Like many of the others who have posted here, I met Steve at Southampton University. We met at Connaught Hall where we were on the same corridor. It happened that we both also came from Kent and immediately become friends, despite our diametrically opposed political opinions. I remember many debates going long into the night, becoming increasingly boozy, where we put the worlds to rights (well in his case right and in mine left!).
Though the overriding picture I have of him from the Connaught days is of when we executed, what we thought, was our classic student prank.

This was to be painting the large tree in the New Quad pink.
Of course it had to be done in the middle of the night and Steve was the keenest of the painters. In fact my memory is that he painted pretty much by himself. Quite how he was never identified as the culprit by the University portering staff is beyond me since, I recall him showing visible signs of his overzealous pink painting for days after.
After Connaught I shared a house in Northcote Road with Steve, along with John Suckling and Rob Hall. We modelled our house rules on The Young Ones.

Of course we attempted to arrange student parties. The first having only two guests arrive, with each housemate thinking the others had done the inviting of the numerous young ladies we assumed would want to come.
The house also regularly sported a Conservative poster in the downstairs window and a Labour one upstairs! Pretty unique!
Steve made a stab at painting his bedroom, not pink this time but black! He only seemed to manage to get halfway through one wall, leaving an unusual effect.

Like most student houses the sink was always full of washing up and often become blocked with grease from numerous fry-ups. I recall Steve’s attempt to unblock it. First he carefully removed the p-trap from under the sink and drained the filthy water out into a washing up bowl, then needing to dispose of the said filthy water, he tipped it down the sink, which of course was no longer connected to the drain. Oh how I remember his colourful turn of phrase as the water gushed out into the cupboard below the sink and out onto the kitchen floor!

Like many others I remember his old cars. In particular his Mazda. We persuaded him to take a group of us down to Bournemouth for an evening BBQ on the beach. The car just about got us there conking out every now and again. Every time this happened he would open the bonnet and wipe away copious amounts of oil. By the time we’d been thrown off the beach by the police (apparently BBQ’s were banned), he’d run out of oily rags to wipe the engine and resorted for some reason to using his coat.

By now the car had to be stopped every few minutes to vent the fumes that were building up inside! Somehow it got us back to Southampton.
I’ve not really been in contact with Steve for the best part of 20 years, but I was so sad to hear of his untimely death. I’ll always think back to those carefree student times and remember Steve as the true life and soul of the party, who was always willing to help out a mate.