David Rudolph John Gill (19 Apr 1939 - 5 Nov 2015)

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Location
Charing Crematorium Newcourt Wood Charing TN27 0EB
Date
19th Nov 2015
Time
3.20pm
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Dad's Eulogy...

My mother and I would like to thank all of you for being here today from the bottom of our hearts, your support means the world to us and dad would’ve been honoured by your presence. But we mustn’t be too sad. Dad’s life was incredible and unique. Vivid, varied and complex, he did what he wanted, when he wanted, he seized every moment and lived by no law but his own. No regrets. No sentiment. No fear.

My mother writes, but cannot say this herself today: David, my beloved husband, was sometimes so very misunderstood, for reasons too deep to go into here. He often found it very difficult to express his emotions and his love for his friends and family but believe me, it was there and his true friends knew this and they accepted him for it. So to those friends that are here today, I thank you. David kept fighting dementia for such a long time, putting on a brave face and still trying to make people laugh but in the end, it all became too much for him.  He would’ve been so overwhelmed today and so very proud of his son, who is so like him, reading his eulogy with such warmth and love, giving the last salute to his father. David will always be with me, so I will try not to be sad but just happy, for the many precious years we shared together.

We are here today to celebrate and remember the life of David Rudolph John Gill, who was born in Bushey, near Watford, on the 19th April 1939 to Jim and Irene. And from here on in, it gets very complicated and to try and summarise such a rich life would do it a huge injustice.

For example, I could talk about his time as a Teddy Boy juvenile delinquent; vaseline in his hair, flick knife in pocket, suited and booted; fighting, dancing and drinking in equal measure. And for the record, run-ins with the law would be a frequent feature of dad’s life. Or I could mention his time in the army, as part of the King’s Troop, which, when he wasn’t serving his Queen with great distinction, was a mix of going AWOL to see various girlfriends and trying to make himself deaf to get discharged. He succeeded in the deaf bit but the army kept him for as long as they could.

What is important to mention is that dad was a naturally gifted artist and that was how he earned his living for a spell, as a technical illustrator. His ability to draw rapidly, with unerring accuracy and precision and consummate ease was enough to put his dear friend Pip, sadly no longer with us, off becoming a technical illustrator for life. As Pip said: “I knew I’d never be as good as Dave, so why bother?”.
The first 30 years or so of father’s life are brimming with stories but unfortunately, I have to leave them behind, to pick up the tale again when dad came to Nottingham, of all the places in the world to come to. But I’m glad he did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be stood here in front of you and it was in Nottingham where he met the love of his life, the only person to truly understand him, his North Star, my beloved mum: Linda.

My parent’s love affair stands as an inspiration to me, as an example to follow, an exemplar of dedication, commitment and love complete. There were many occasions when they could’ve given up on each other but they never did and they reaped rich rewards for that devotion. I once asked my parents what made them fall in love, their answer was “work ethic”. I think there was more to it than that but the pair of them grafted at life to make a living and grafted at love to make it work. So this is my mum and dad’s song…

Dad’s time in Nottingham was as varied as his time in the South East: spraying and repairing cars as Thorneywood Coachworks, the second hand car sales pitch in Wollaton, buying classic cars, dabbling in antiques and of course, lending money to Iranians.

It was during this period that mum and dad bought a home in France. Some of his happiest times, both before and after he retired, came here. It was a new challenge, as the two of them turned a run down manor house into a magnificent home. Dad’s artistic talents for turning old bits of wood into something beautiful really came to the fore and the creative renovation of two properties over twenty years no doubt helped to keep the dementia at bay, for just that little bit longer.

Such was father’s life, there really isn’t enough time in the world to share all of the great tales I could tell you about my dad. There’s the one about him crashing his car into Oxford Circus and fleeing the scene with not a scratch on him; or escaping a police roadblock by driving through it with his lights off; or travelling all the way to Bangladesh just to sell a car; or getting a tax refund a month before he died, which was odd because he’d not paid tax for 40 years. It was Cicero who said: “The life given us, by nature is short; but the memory of a well-spent life is eternal.”

The stories are endless because it was a life well lived and as my friend Mark Whiteley always says, “stories only happen to people who can tell them” and boy could my dad tell them, a master storyteller, the finest raconteur I’ve ever met and I’m certain I learnt everything I know now from being a shy, meek boy with bad hair sat at his feet, listening awestruck and rapt to his fantastic anecdotes. So it looks like I owe dad my career in acting, as well as my snappy dress sense.

My dear friend Stephen Deuters wrote this brief poem about me and my dad that I’d like to share…

I remember many stories
you told me about your Dad
the world needs big men
in brain, in brawn, in personality
and in you and your Dad
the world had and has, two of them.

But then the stories kept being repeated, over and over and over again. And after a while they dried up altogether. Time and space lost meaning. Confusion and anxiety became everyday. Dementia had arrived. An evil, immensely cruel disease. It took my dad away from me long before he died. Mum wrote a poem about living with the horrors of dementia I’d like to share…

SHADES OF DEMENTIA

Shades of green, what might have been
Shades of red, what’s that you said?
Shades of pink, I can no longer think
Shades of grey, it’s taking me away
Shades of black, no turning back
As green turns to red, red turns to pink, pink turns to grey, nothing more to say
Losing the fight, the end is white
Shades of blue, I still love you

A good craic was still to be had now and then though. I remember visiting him last year and the conversation turned to getting married and having children, he leant forward, deadly serious and said: “Listen to me, never have children, they ruin your life”. And then, in a flash, he remembered who I was and laughed long and hard.


Did we keep our promises
We made to ourselves
Look into each others eyes
Do we make each other proud?
Did we stay true
To the path?
I love you brother
Hold fast

This next song is from me to my dad, my brother, my best man that never was…

And so, like all good stories, we must come to the end. November the 5th, at around 6pm. David Rudolph John Gill, the great almighty Gill, good old Dave, Gilly; died with such grace and peace I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. He went surrounded by love and fireworks. A fitting tribute.

So I’ve one favour to ask of all of you gathered here today. Author Terry Pratchett, who was also taken too soon by dementia, said: “Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?” So please, say my dad’s name, over and over, tell his stories, talk about him and whenever you see a firework arc skyward and explode, spare a thought for him and his life well lived.

Linda Patricia Gill posted a picture
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The King's Troop Royal Horse Artillery Association donated £25 in memory of David

At this time of sorrow, please remember others care and will be there for you.

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Victor Amaira wrote

The King's Troop, Royal Horse Artillery, Association, extends it condolences David's. He was a good member of the Association, and will be sadly missed.

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Dawna lit a candle
Dawna donated £20 in memory of David

I was so sorry to hear of David's death. I always liked his attitude to life and though the last few years weren't so good, I shall miss him.

My thoughts are with Linda and Daniel and please, if I can do anything to help, you one have to ask.

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  • David was a straight talking guy and would throw in comments like `Fur coat and no knickers' when looking at our new chandeliers in our collapsing French house. We will never forget him because of his strong personality.

    Posted by Christine & Alan on 8/12/2015 Report abuse
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Linda Patricia Gill posted a picture

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  • Pip & David - Brothers in arms. Always laughter & banter to the end. RIP both of you. x

    Posted by Pauline on 31/01/2018 Report abuse
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Carol & Mike Fewkes lit a candle
Carol & Mike Fewkes donated £30 in memory of David

To us, David was a clever, hard working man, who adored his family. He had a good sense of humour and was sometimes so very cheeky, which is what we shall miss the most. Many fond memories to hold onto.

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Diane Bicknell lit a candle
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David and Trevor, in action, in Rouen.

David and Trevor, in action, in Rouen.

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Diane Bicknell donated £30 in memory of David

Fond memories, especially of visits to France to his two homes he renovated and was so proud of. He achieved what most people can only talk about. He shared lots of stories over good food and copious amounts of good wine. Happy times.

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Peter Wales donated £25 in memory of David

Unfortunately, I only knew David for a few years but long enough to have had many interesting conversations.

These ranged far and wide; from politics, industry, France (where he owned a second property), friends and neighbours and many other topics. David had a gift of accurately assessing virtually any situation and this also applied to judging people (there was never any malice in this, just an opinion). Fortunately David never gave me an assessment of myself but when he asked me what my job had been and I replied that I had been in the Civil Service, he almost looked at me with contempt!

No conversation with David was ever dull or boring and if he couldn't find the right word, or phrase, a fruity expletive would do. That large bearded face with those dark intelligent eyes would bore into any subject. It's good to have these memories of large man with a big heart.

Many of these talks took place in our kitchen, where my wife had noticed that David never completely finished whatever he was drinking (generally either tea of coffee). When she asked him about this, the reply was: "there could be dirt in the bottom of the mug!".

Goodbye David and thank you for all those interesting talks and the laughter. May you rest in Eternal Peace.

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Edna Avery lit a candle
Edna Avery wrote

My memory of David is of a talented, clever and kind man; always smartly dressed. He will be missed but let's hope that he is now at peace.

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Linda Gill wrote

The donation below is from Walter Hicks, the brother of Alfred, a very generous donation. So I would just like to say thank you to them both. Linda. xx

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Linda Gill donated £50 in memory of David
Alfred Hicks wrote

It was a great sadness to hear of Davids passing. Both my brother Walter and I held David in liking and respect for a worthwhile human being.

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Alf Hicks donated £50 in memory of David
stephen Deuters donated in memory of David

With love and respect

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West view Day Centre wrote

From all the team at West view Daycentre . David was a Joy to work with and will be sadly missed . Our thoughts are with you at this sad time .

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Philip Badder donated £50 in memory of David
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Ray and Irene Lakin donated £20 in memory of David

To an old friend, remembering good times.

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Sid Jurka wrote

I met David for the first time 40 years ago. Later I would come to meet the dapper, well groomed David but on this occasion he was covered in overspray and dust from rubbing down cars all day, sitting on a stool at the lounge bar of the Major Oak making an occasional growling noise as he drank - first a lager to quench his thirst- followed, over the next hour or two, by one or two whiskey and Cokes - “in a tall glass with lots of ice”. I liked him immediately!
I was there to meet Guntis, who, like David and Phil Badder and Brian Whiteman, used the pub on his way home from work. This group had already formed a friendship by the time I joined and I know my brother really enjoyed going to the pub to meet these guys, dragging me there as often as he could.
The Major Oak was thee meeting place and even though Guntis went to live in Saudi we arranged several trips to Le Mans from that pub. David was the chief finance officer, collecting the money from each of us every week and issuing a record card. He was very organised. In fact, David was a very clever and deep thinking man. He had a philosophy of life that was clear and well thought out – and he would give you the benefit of his philosophy whenever he could.
David was a talented, intelligent guy full of ideas and wisdom - making the way he declined and died especially difficult to bear. I will miss him.

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Sid Jurka is attending the funeral and the reception
Sid Jurka donated £30 in memory of David

I met David for the first time 40 years ago. Later I would come to meet the dapper, well groomed David but on this occasion he was covered in overspray and dust from rubbing down cars all day, sitting on a stool at the lounge bar of the Major Oak making an occasional growling noise as he drank - first a lager to quench his thirst- followed, over the next hour or two, by one or two whiskey and Cokes - “in a tall glass with lots of ice”. I liked him immediately!
I was there to meet Guntis, who, like David and Phil Badder and Brian Whiteman, used the pub on his way home from work. This group had already formed a friendship by the time I joined and I know my brother really enjoyed going to the pub to meet these guys, dragging me there as often as he could.
The Major Oak was thee meeting place and even though Guntis went to live in Saudi we arranged several trips to Le Mans from that pub. David was the chief finance officer, collecting the money from each of us every week and issuing a record card. He was very organised. In fact, David was a very clever and deep thinking man. He had a philosophy of life that was clear and well thought out – and he would give you the benefit of his philosophy whenever he could.
David was a talented, intelligent guy full of ideas and wisdom - making the way he declined and died especially difficult to bear. I will miss him.

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Peter Hoffmann donated in memory of David

From Peter, Pauline, Caroline, Simon and family.

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Carole Jenkins donated £20 in memory of David
Melanie Slaney wrote

Thinking of you both, dear Linda and Dan. With lots of love. Shine on you crazy diamond.

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