Glory Days

Wren, this book is written for you, To share a tale of someone kind and true.

His name was Jez, someone we wish you’d had the chance to know, But his spirit lives on in you as you grow.

As a boy, young Jez was bright, With curious thoughts both day and night.

He loved to dream, he loved to play, And mischief found him every day!

He travelled canals where adventure grew, With Dad Brian, Mum Hazel, and siblings too.

With Caz and Nick, the days were bright, They laughed and played from morn till night.

But once, with a trip and a sudden slip, His sister Caz fell overboard - splash! A dip!

She climbed back out with a soggy grin, And Jez laughed at the trouble she’d landed in.

Jez grew older, bold and free, He loved his shiny, gold Ford Capri.

With a book in one hand and camera in tow, He'd capture life's wonders wherever he'd go.

Music was a beat in Jez's soul, A rhythm that made him feel whole.

He'd queue for hours to buy a tune, And play it loud from noon till moon.

He loved the rush of a gig's first song, The echoing chords that carried him along.

And when he played his old record machine, It was always the Boss, Bruce Springsteen.

He'd whistle loudly to ‘You can't start a fire without a spark,’ And tap his fingers to ‘Dancing in the Dark.’

He'd wait on a sunny day for music to play, And let the melodies wash worries away.

He met and fell in love with your Granny Rosie in a curious way, Through radio games they used to play.

Their laughter grew, their love took flight, And soon, their world felt just right.

Then came Nadine and Greg, lighting up each day, Filling their world with laughter and play.

Holidays by the sea and footprints in the sand, Jez would spend the days building castles by hand.

He built their home with steady hands, Painting walls and making plans.

Each room a story, each colour a part, Crafted with love and a decorator's heart.

He liked to be silly, to sing and play, Changing song words in a cheeky way.

He worked away on his Apple Mac with a creative spark, Drawing, designing, leaving his mark.

Roller coasters were his kind of fun, Zooming fast and being spun.

Laughing loud, as the world whizzed by, Chasing the clouds up in the sky!

He also loved the races, with cars so fast, And reading books where time would pass.

By the radiator, snug and warm he’d stay, Dreaming of adventures far away.

And although he's now gone, his love stays true, In your Dad’s smile and work he’ll do.

With cameras rolling, just like then, Capturing moments again and again.

Wren, I hope you'll share his love of play, Of laughter, fun, and bright, bold days.

And in adventure, big and small, He’ll be there to guide you through it all.

So, dream big dreams and climb up high, Look to the stars in the dark night sky.

For though you’ll never meet his face, In you, his love has found its place.