6 years ago
Jo, Alé, Lukas and Máximo
You know, when I think about Andrew I naturally want to smile. He was a man who made up one half of a couple that naturally exuded warmth, generosity and patience and the memory of that warmth makes me smile.
I asked my eldest son what was it about Andrew that made him feel good? He replied:
“He was interested in me.”
He was a man with a true boyish charm and a large part of that charm surrounded his natural interest in so many things; how things worked, how things should be (Marmite on Mondays and Thursdays) and what motivated others...and my son's reply is such a simple answer, that we could almost miss the importance of it.
“He was interested in me.”
Whenever I met him, he was always interested in what I had to say, what I believed in and he always showed the same courtesy to anyone he met.
I’m not saying that all of the questions he asked were always politically correct, or were not accompanied by a wry smile, (☺ )however, taking a real interest in someone is turning into something of a rare quality these days.
When he spent time with my boys he naturally became interested in them, teaching them, sharing with them and enjoying an adoptive Grandad role on the few occasions we were able to visit. I remember telling Julia on an early visit that he had had them completely raptured while playing a game with them, him a natural master at entertaining boys – because, let’s be honest, he was still a boy himself.
One of the hopes that we have when we pass on is that we leave a legacy; something that we hand down from the past to those left behind. It doesn’t have to be material and most often is a message or a teaching.
In my boys, Andrew taught them to be inquisitive, to ask questions and…to be interested.
A fine legacy.
