Images of what has gone
Of what has passed, still linger on
Release the hurt, let go the pain
Good memories alone retain

Grieve the passing of the day
And let the hurting pass away
Remember all he was before
Remember now and evermore

Remember him for what he was
Remembering with love because
Right up to the very end
He was my father and my friend

He gave so much to every one
And now I weep because he’s gone
A loving father strong of mind
But, Oh, so caring and so kind

Giving all he had to give
He showed his children how to live
No matter what we had to bear
We always knew that he was there

He never fussed at what was gone
But taught us how to carry on
Whatever circumstance arose
Some course of action he’d propose

So grieve the passing of his day
His night has taken him away
But his presence still remains
In memories my mind retains

Remember all the holidays
He loved to travel all his days
Friends, cousins, children even Gran
In car and tent and caravan

What happy days! What fun we had!
All us kids, with Mum and Dad
Round these Isles in cars and boats
From far Land’s End to John O’Groats

I never saw a man more brave
Than the loving words he gave
Of Norah, his beloved wife
And all they shared in their long life

In the crematorium
He showed all his love for Mum
His back was straight, he did not bend
Composed up to the very end

With loving words, his love he gave
To the love he couldn’t save
The love that he would see no more
Would still remain for ever sure

One thing more I picture still
And I’m sure I always will
So often do they come to mind
His lovely hands so strong and kind

Now grieve the passing of his day
His nightfall took his light away
Which light first shone in Madam’s Wood
Where once a little cottage stood

Grandad Crowther wrote with pride
To the grandson who had tried
Demonstating he’s no fool
He’d won a place at Grammer School

Then to university
To run, and study dentistry
A change of class, a change of pace
Now to wear a different face

In wartime, service was the norm
So he donned a uniform
How far now from Madam’s Wood?
With pips on shoulder, proud he stood

All who knew him can reflect
That he was held in high respect
Friendships held for many years
And in the end the many tears

He could talk with any man
But all alone was how he ran
Way out in front, not with the pack
As well in life as on the track