I think it was my Dads late friend Johnny Rothwell, or it could have been himself, who when it was discovered I was headed for a career in the church, made the suitably politically incorrect comment that I had become "The White Sheep of the Family".  The down side of that is that I'm the one who has to stand up and say a few words.

To find phrases to adequately capture the unique person that he was is impossible.  So much of who he was, has shaped my life. As the youngest son in the family and having experienced him, in that particular relationship, I know I will miss out things that characterized others experience of him, but that's the way it is. Permit me to mention just a few personal things.

One fact of life growing up at 20 Orchard Road was that there was always a lot of laughter. It was Dad who nurtured me on Goon Shows, Marx Brothers and Spike Milligan. Around the table would always flow a stream of wit and banter. That humor in the home I know spread into his relationships elsewhere. Wherever dad went laughter wasn't far behind.

Dad was the kind of Father who was always supportive yet never intrusive. He was a mentor not only to his children and grandchildren but to many others. Maybe because his own childhood wasn't always filled with sweetness and light, he created a home environment where there was a lot of freedom, always a welcome and in which love was a word we seldom spoke because it was so self evident.

He had an incredibly welcoming character about him. As a kid whenever we would go on holidays, (usually of course to Scotland) there was invariably friends taken along. Some fantastic journeys resulted, in a series of memorable vehicles such as Ford Utilicons and Jowett Javelins, to name but two!

Dad never claimed to be a religious person. He once told me he was an "Eighth Day Adventist' (believing in the philosophy 'It might never happen'). Still, myself being a preacher, I naturally looked around for an appropriate bible verse. I think I found it in James 1:27 "Pure and lasting religion in the sight of God our Father means that we must care for orphans and widows in their troubles, and refuse to let the world corrupt us."

Another side of Dad's character was a passion for seeing the right thing done. He hated injustices. He would sometimes sit at the breakfast table and read something in the paper, and.. well.. it just made him mad. His work with NALGO was an expression of that "caring for orphans and widows", his work with the "Weights and Measures/Trading Standards" Department displayed that concern to 'not allow the world to corrupt us".

He had a healthy contempt for all that was bombastic or pretentious. This endeared him to many folk, literally all around the world, and some even came to stay. He loved to travel, often to the sorts of destinations that were in the small print of the travel brochures.

Dad had his private side. His treks along some of the bleakest footpaths that Britain can boast bear witness to the fact that there were times when he was most comfortable with his own company.

You know I truly am just scratching the surface here. You are here because he touched your life, probably not in the same way as mine, but that's O.K, for this is a time of recalling how he was special to us and allowing those thoughts to become a strengthening for days that lie ahead without him.

Because time is short I've been neglectful. I've not mentioned the stories he would tell us of school days and wartime exploits. I've said nothing about Jazz, whiskey, childhood cycling trips or boats on Loch Lomond. However I am wearing a tie that is of the Morrison Tartan, and we will conclude our service being serenaded by Maxine Sullivan singing of "Taking the High Road'

An engaging and inspiring work colleague, a mentor, a beloved brother, a loving husband, an admired father-in-law, a much loved grandpa, and to me an awesome dad whom words are incapable of conveying how deeply he will be missed.

So I choose my closing words to the rest of my family. Mum, I know you're the one who knew him better than us all and we just can't imagine what your going through right now. But we're here for you. Janet and Steve, like me, you see so much of Dad in yourself that it's sometimes scary, but I guess that's one way he's going to live on in the world.

Today we just have to be thankful. Thankful for a life so well lived. Thankful for how he touched our lives and made us feel. As a verse in the Psalms puts it, "The Lord gave, and the Lord took away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.' AMEN.

PRAYER

A few days ago Lord, with my Dad, Maxwell Morrison Pratt, we could do all those good and natural things that we do with each other today. Express concerns, swap stories and laughter, catch up on the news, share around a table. His death and departure from this life brings all those good and natural things to a sudden close in our relationship to him.

We would therefore grip and not let go of the lessons his life has left us. His unique character. His enthusiasm for life. His embracing of so many different people and cultures. His passion for justice. His sense of humour. His perserverance through the hard times. His example. His genuine love.

We are going to miss him. We are thankful that when the end came (as it must come to us all) that he was spared from any long period of suffering.  We are thankful that his years were full of so much that enriched our own lives and that so many of us have a deep well of memories to draw upon.

Help us be content to leave him in Your hands. Sadness and sorrows, as we know them, sicknesses and frailties, as we know them, regrets and troubles as we experience them… all this is past and he is at peace.

In the hope that faith brings to our lives may we even go on our way rejoicing, believing that beyond unwelcome surprises is a love that will not let us go, that though we live for today, there is an even brighter tomorrow, trusting that with him all things are now well, as he takes a further step in a journey along eternities road.

Be a special support to mum at this time, and the rest of us who form his family circle. May his memory remain evergreen in our hearts and his words and ways continue to guide us and put a smile on our faces.