Thank you, Grandpa, for being an unwavering part of my life over the past 50 years. You appreciated the beauty in the world, and always wanted to share it with others. When we were little we were in awe of you: tall, knowledgeable, the unassuming nature of someone who doesn't have to prove themselves to anyone. Your beautiful home was fit for royalty, yet you let us run around in it. The fine furniture was there to be useful, the art to tell a story: Mowgli and the Jungle Book, Gauguin and Tahiti, Michelangelo's David and your own visit to Florence. In the garden, we were transported into a world set apart from the bustle of Hyde: you'd tell us the name of every plant and tree, and when they were planted. There I got my love of rhododendrons, and evergreens from the conifer you planted that was just my height. You patiently helped us to spot the birds hiding in the branches - and even more patiently endured our glee in playing with the old Hills Hoist rotary clothes line with its massive iron handle. Back in the house, the grand piano was there to be played - whether by clumsy fingers banging, or your own sight-reading of whole orchestra scores. When Paul showed his aptitude and a piano was being retired from the RNCM, you and Granny very generously bought it for him - and even more generously bought me a computer to even things up. Both gifts were prescient, setting us up for our degrees and into a career, in my case one where I've stayed to this day. Lacking musical talent, I still loved music and got into the technical side of mixing and recording, leading to happy chats reminiscing about all the recordings you were involved in, and which speaker or amplifier would be the ideal choice for the new stereo you were always tempted to buy. Your love and talent for fine dining was wasted on us as beans-on-toast children, but as we grew so did our appreciation. Wine you taught us to respect from a young age, showing your little sommeliers how to twist the wrist to stop any drips. Later, wine was our medium of conversation from afar, as I would try to find interesting new bottles for you, and you would always write back with a kind and enthusiastic note. That kindness was a defining quality of you, and only got stronger with the years. Your care for Granny is something everyone who met you will remember, selflessly taking on all the work of the home as well as looking after her, yet still being her affectionate and loving husband. Rest in peace, together again - loved and remembered always. Steve, Riitta and Joel xxx