Trevor Leyland's Tribute Page

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Trevor Leyland

Trevor Leyland

1944 - 2006
What can I say about my dad? I have many happy memories of him that will always stay with me, from childhood holidays during factory fortnight to Great Yarmouth, when on one occasion Keith Harris with Orville pulled him out of the audience to become his living puppet on stage. The many evening trips to Scarborough just to get fish and chips, the dog shows around the country that I got dragged to, getting up at the crack of dawn to drive 200 miles just for the dog to fall asleep in the ring, of dad taking me fishing and trying to get me to put the maggot on the hook. His love of music, preferably loud enough to make Janice’s ornaments dance. But most of all when I think of him I remember his laughter and sense of fun. He was born in York in 1944 and lived for most of his childhood in Chaloners Road, Dringhouses. He went to Acomb school and when he left he trained to be a butcher. He met my mum when he was 24 and they married at York Register Office. He got a job at Rowntrees and worked there until 1986. After that he worked in different butchers in York, Haxby and finally at Thorntons of Easingwold. The last 10 months were hard for him and those close to him, but he was very brave, undergoing all the tests, staying positive. But in the end the cancer took away all the things that he loved, his laughter, his jokes, his total appetite for everything. He was taken from us when he had so much more to live for; a long and happy retirement and to see his grandchildren grow up. From the many people who came to his funeral we could see how much he was loved by many and how he touched so many people lives and they too have been saddened by his passing. It has been said many times that his passing is such a waste of a good bloke. He will be missed by a lot of people and is loved by many. I am writing this in 2015, nearly 9 years since he left us. I miss him so very much and think about him every day. I still can't believe you have gone dad. Love you. Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name, speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference in your tone, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was, let it be spoken without effort, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was; there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.
 
 
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