Yesterday we said goodbye to Jack, my wife Jackie's father who died on Monday. He was 87 so had enjoyed a good innings but was frail and nearly blind so, in his own words, "It's the right time". He was a life long Norton man and a massive supporter of Bill Ivy who he always maintained did the 100mph TT lap before Hailwood who got the credit.
It was a good day as far as funerals go; I'm not generally emotional at these things because there's enough time for that in private; but I was nearly caught out three time yesterday.
Firstly, as our funeral cortege approached a busy roundabout, a motorcyclist, unknown to us, overtook down the outside, stopped on the roundabout and held up the traffic while we passed. Then, shortly after, there were three teenage lads, again unknown to us, roughing about in the garden of a house we passed; as we did they stopped, took off their baseball caps and paid their respects. The kindness in those moments by total strangers almost got me. But I really had to choke back the lump in my throat after the church service. I'd been keeping an eye out for old Jimmy, about the same age as Jack and his life-long best friend because I knew he'd be there somewhere and on his own. Just as we were about to leave the church for the crematorium I saw him stood to one side in the rain. I asked the driver to stop and, as we had a spare seat in our car went and took him by the arm and sat him in with us. I couldn't have left him there on his own....
RIP, Jack.