I know exactly what you mean about the fiddle, kat. I have my dad's piano accordion, and it sat in its case for quite a while. My mum had given me some of his old clothes (and I mean OLD, too bad for the charity shop), to throw away, including his oldest and tattiest tweed hat. I just couldn't throw it away, it was so much "him", so the hat lives in the accordion case. When the time feels right, you will take your dad's fiddle out of its case and I know you will have such joy. I remember my dad every time I play, sing and generally lark about dancing and laughing with my daughter (which, thankfully, happens a lot in our house) the way he did with me, and I hear him in a lot of the things I say.

He's been especially in my thoughts since my mum died 3 weeks ago. After he died, my attention was inevitably directed to my mother and she was my main concern and responsibility. Now, in mourning and remembering her, I feel I can properly and fully mourn and remember him, too.

After he died, a friend of mine said: "I really liked your dad. Wherever he was, he always enjoyed himself and was genuinely interested in everyone and everything." Whenever his name comes up in conversation with family or friends, everyone smiles. What better epitaph could anyone have ?

- jeanie (who can imagine her dad reading this and saying "Well, that's all jolly splendid")