Dearest Bro; I love you and wish so much that you could stay with us. But after such a long time, I realise that we cannot stop a lovely and loved flower from going on it's inevitable and natural journey. I can only hold onto our fondest memories and recall what has lodged in my heart over the years. I remember you as a big older brother leaving our home to go into the army and soon after to another land – though I didn't really understand what conscription actually was at the time – it sounded exciting yet also made me feel very sad; I remember my feelings of loss and fear that you were going somewhere out of site and would be gone for a long time... There was a feeling of dread that another brother, like Alf, wouldn't be coming home from work each day – though again I was unable to fully understand the meaning of that vague perception of loss, only that we were waiting every day for a letter – first from Alf and then from you. I guess much of our anxiety was passed to us from Mum as her boys went far away and would have felt lonely and anxious themselves. It seemed like a lifetime before we saw you again. The girl, who so often stood across the road and who gave me sixpence if I told you she was there, waiting, didn't come after you 'had gone as a soldier'... My greatest memory of that time was when Mum received letters from you; she was happier, less worried a lot of the time but upset sometimes – though she said little about anything, holding her worries to herself mostly – especially when you were posted to Egypt. The best part of those years was when you were coming home; everyone grew excited 'Dickie's coming home!' This gleeful chant was repeated often until you arrived, walking vigorously towards us as we played in the street looking as smart as always, neat, with blonde hair – shorter than we remembered but soon to grow as wavy and shiny as it was before. Eve also remembers running out to greet you as you came nearer he house. We ambushed you with shrieks of 'Dickie! Dickie! He's home, he's home'. Eve remembers you saying in a gruff voice 'What d'you want!'... We had no idea at that time that soldiers had to hide their feelings, had to sound tough – you know the drill... How sad I feel that perhaps you never knew what you meant to me and us little ones, for you were our hero, you had made our Mum so happy and we were relieved, that you were back, safe at last... Mum smiled and laughed again. Thank you for being in my life, my multi talented brother, who not only danced, loved music and played piano and accordion, was an artist with the paintbrush and easel, but also made excellent furniture – I almost forgot to say 'gardener', because I just remembered your job on the North sea rigs as an arc welder too! You were the second out of a family of nine children, gathering and then parting on the waves of life making getting to know each other well, very difficult. Somehow however, we managed to come together and make memories that bring hearts closer over the years and learn through those short intervals, to recognise the love that binds us as a family and remember the sadness's, often the fun and laughter of fleeting moments that keep us knitted as we age. I will remember those sweet moments of closeness with you as a brother; coming to understand where your strength lay, your loyalty and your non-judgmental ways and that you always visited our Mum. Goodbye dear brother; Thank you for touching my heart with your gentle ways. I will remember, with gratitude and love, as will my family. Eternally, Eileen X