In loving memory of Paul Barton who sadly passed away on 28th November 2020.
Depression is the cruellest illness. It's invisible. People can't see a bandage or a wheelchair, so the sufferer doesn't receive best wishes, a bunch of flowers or a get well soon card. If you can spare a couple of pounds to help save someone's life, please donate to MIND.
Thank you. Angela, Paul's wife.
Paul was a loving husband and my best friend.
A father bursting with love and pride.
A grandfather utterly besotted by Hollie and Sophie.
A raconteur who enthralled.
He was a jester with a sharp wit and who made people laugh.
A friend ready to drop everything and help.
A chef who created amazing meals out of love for whoever visited.
Paul was a man who loved to dance… and who actually had rhythm.
He was generous beyond belief.
He was kind.
Paul had old-fashioned values and for forty years he opened doors for me, walked on the outside of the pavement nearest the road, carried my heavy bags and always offered me the last portion of food or square of chocolate.
He was stylish without trying.
Family was his beginning, middle and end.
He was a poet, albeit his masterpieces were mostly sad.
He was unafraid to show emotion; letting tears fall unselfconsciously during sad films or songs.
He was a talented designer who has left behind an awe-inspiring legacy of buildings and artwork.
He was a hard worker, sometimes pushing himself to exhaustion.
He had a presence.
Paul was a gentle man – and a gentleman.
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