Thoughts on Ken You can never be sure what someone really thinks of you, all you can know is how they treat you. When it comes to Ken I can be sure that there is nowhere where I have been greeted more warmly or received a better welcome then at Ken’s home. No one ever asked, with more genuine interest, about the wellbeing of my family then Ken and no one ever complimented my omelettes more. My experience of Ken is of a dedicated family man who oozed dignity and respect, but for one moment when voted “most camp bowler” at an Austrian hotel skittles night. A naive foreign traveller, I will never forget the Eurostar check-in desk where, when asked if he was carrying any sharp objects, Ken replied “No”, thought for moment then reached into his pocket, pulled out his plant cuttings penknife and said “But I have a knife”. But most of all I will remember the last 12 months. With increasing poor health and the loneliness of loosing Shirley, Ken lived with dignity, an occasional twinkle in his eye and a sense of adventure. He bought a mobility scooter, joined clubs and went on day trips. On holiday he sat for ages in the hotel lobby chatting to the other guests and comparing illnesses. In his quieter moments he took time to express his appreciation for all the support and things that people were doing for him, especially Linda and Peggy and everyone who worked on his summer house. As he became increasingly aware that he may not get much chance to use the summer house he still spoke of it with pride, joy and appreciation. He expressed how much he enjoyed going to lunch with his brother Alan each week and how pleased he was with the rowan tree I had bought him some years earlier. But it was what he didn’t say; I rarely heard a word of complaint. After a difficult final week, he passed in a dignified manner in his home with his beloved daughter befitting of a dignified life, a dignified man. Stuart Son-in-law