We’re all here today because John meant something to all of us. The last couple weeks building up to this day have felt so unreal, I’ve seen some of the most hard working people I know stuck in a stupor dream like state – but this is a day John always tried to prepare us for and took every opportunity to remind us was coming.

I have been struggling to find the words to say today. Me and John never spoke much as a father and son but getting to know him as an adult I began to see there was always an air of mutual understanding. It wasn’t out of a lack of love but the inability for either of us to know how to express that love.

As much as he tried to be the loud life and soul of a party John was actually a very shy person who chose his words carefully – and sometimes couldn’t find the words he needed at all.

So instead of standing up here and telling you stories- of which we all have many - I want to share some of his carefully chosen words that resonated with me and hopefully can with you.

From working a dangerous job, he was a man who was hyper aware of his own mortality and lived every day like it could be his last; leaving nothing to manana and having true conviction in his oft said “When its your turn its your turn”. Throughout my life he would tell me “Every day should be Christmas” and by this he didn’t mean that you should get spoiled every day but he was gently reminding the people around him not to withhold your love until a future calendar day as there’s no guarantee you’ll see that day. Give your gifts when you want to and show your love while you can.

He was a stubborn but principled man with a strong sense of tradition. He’d often remind us that “What’s for you won’t go by you” but he never meant this in a holistic sense, he wanted to reassure you that hard work would always pay off – even if it went unrecognised and time well spent with others would be returned with kindness. And to his end he was a grafter who never forgot a favour.

John liked to play the hard man but would often answer the question “What do you want?” with a “I want my mammy” and although it was played for laughs he would deliver it so solemnly that it was clear he was trying to convey the pain he carried after losing his mother, a pain I don’t think I fully understood until recently. For years he’s been trying to help us understand the poignancy of what a day like today would mean. And one of the few father to son moments we shared, he would often reinforce “Never Forget Your Mammy” something he obviously had clear conviction in.

“Leave it in a better state than you found it” – he was usually referring to a cupboard you’d been noseying in or a motor he was stripping but I always felt it had a deeper meaning. John had an expansive network of friends, from many walks of life, and I’d like to believe that every life he touched he was able to leave something behind that left it better he found it. One of his most admirable qualities and one I try to embody every day.

A presence as big as Johns can never disappear and the parts we’ll all miss isn’t his physical presence. Its knowing someone is always there to help, having someone who you know can make you smile, having someone in your life who believes nothing it impossible. He wouldn’t us to feel lost, sad, or empty right now because he kept telling us this day was going to come and done his best to show us how to support each other when it did. I whole heartedly hope that everyone here today can help keep his presence alive by being the person people needed him to be.

If I have learned anything from this writing this it’s how important it is to find the words you need to connect with the people you love, and if you’re struggling, I encourage you to try harder.

My Dad never wanted to get old and always said when he went it wanted it to be fast without fuss. I’m glad he got what he wanted and know he did his best for “When it was his turn”

I’m going to miss you and I love you Dad