(Presented on behalf of Hannah by her father Max Coster, as part of the tribute to Charlie Coster on the occasion of his funeral service 4th June 2001)
I wish I could grieve with those who are grieving.
I wish I know this man you all loved.
I can’t remember the funny things that he said.
I don’t even know his middle name.
I wish I could tell people what he was like.
But I didn’t know him well enough to do so.
I wish I could recall on many memorable moments,
But I was too young to remember.
What I can tell you though is:
This is a man who let me play with his shell collection every time I visited.
This was a man who liked to work with his hands,
gardening and making things in the shed.
This was a man who we’d giggle about every time he overcooked the veggies.
The was a man who had tears in his eyes when his family was together for the last time on his 98th birthday.
This is a man who I am looking forward to getting to know in Heaven
So until then, every time I see a giant shell, I’ll think of my grandma’s husband.
Every time I see our woven door mat I’ll think of my dad’s father.
And every time I see a child in the arms of their Pa,
I’ll think of my Grandfather who, one day, I’ll know that little bit better.
1 thought on “This was a man…”
I was looking to see if a submission I had made to a public inquiry had been acknowledged but found this poem by Hannah instead. Thanks Nick for keeping a record to a great fellow – my dad certainly inspired me (often when I was searching for a way forward over some problem). His memory continues to inspire me, even though I am now officially old.