We live on a row of four terraced houses. David was our eccentric friend and neighbour, an extremely kind and generous man. During the final years of his life, he suffered from a range of illnesses and limited mobility so we all worked together to provide support. When he died, I was asked to provide a eulogy for his funeral, and here it is:

‘DAVID MADE ME SMILE’
Wearing his apron and not a lot more-
David looked… eye-catching as you walked in the door;
Cookery book in one hand and a sharp knife clutched tight
And snarling ‘This recipe just isn’t right.’
David made me smile.

He once made some bread dough-the strangest I’d seen
For he’d poured, in the middle, a tin of baked beans.
This is true – I’m being honest – and I had to try
A slice that was soggy and orange inside!
David made me smile.

He used to spend time all alone in his shed,
Hammering and banging and turning deep red.
He’d mutter and mumble and sometimes we heard
Some very peculiar, can’t-repeat-words.
David made me smile.

‘Have I told you this story?’ he often would say.
‘It won’t take too long.’-but you’d be there all day.
And, oh, let’s be honest, we were sometimes confused
And yet, in a way, David kept us amused.
David made me smile.

Earlier this year, he had a stair-lift installed;
‘It needs a name, David.’ ‘She’s Brenda!’ he called.
‘I don’t really want her,’ he murmured and frowned,
‘But I could charge my neighbours for a few ups and downs.’
David made me smile.
A few weeks ago, I was on my way home,
I thought ‘I’ll see David ‘cos he’ll be on his own.
Writing his journal; in that same chair.’
But then I remembered; ‘David’s not there’.
So I stopped- and I pondered- and I felt sort-of-sad.
But then I remembered those times that we had
When
David made me smile.