I remember quiet moments.

I remember sitting with him in the chaos of Camelford's Easter house, finding a new sense of calm in life. Actually you don't have to run everywhere. And it's quite fun sitting with Gren and watching life. It's also even fun watching other people do jigsaws….

I always admired Gren's quiet confidence in himself – being a folkie but not a beer drinker, being a singer who was always happy to sing but much happier to volunteer someone else, laughing in the face of a short tempered Dad throwing cards (or gear stick covers!) and no, actually, I'm OK not to go for a walk.   

I remember asking him about love and life, and always getting a measured, wise, and reflective serious answer about problems and joys.

I remember trying to work out lyrics with him and Dad on holiday in France and trying to convince him to say "cracking tea".

I remember his wonderful voice, singing along with Dad on guitar, and squeezebox playing. My request was always "Garden of Love", a favourite (of ours, not his!) was "Unchain my heart" but it's "Caledonia" that's been going around my head.

He never did teach me about gears though…

I remember his chuckle, especially when discussing demented 5ths and ruined lyrics.



I remember him singing at our wedding, still not believing that we'd got him to use the word Banjo seriously, in the sunshine under a beautiful Oak. A wonderful last song.

I will miss his calm, surreal presence in my life and his wonderful voice. It was an amazing pleasure to know him and I will try to take forward his calm that nothing in life is ever completely snadged.