Dear Duncan,
I wish I’d got to know you better, before that terrible disease stole
you from us. I wish I could have sat
with you under our beautiful Andalucian sky, laughing as you recounted stories of
Scott’s childhood that I’d have cheekily pressed you to tell. I wish I could have watched, with love in my eyes, father and son shout loudly from the terraces of your beloved Norwich City and his beloved Malaga. I so wish you had been proudly by Janette’s side
at our wedding to witness Scott and I exchange our vows. I’d have told you on that most beautiful of days that if I could be half the devoted wife to him that Janette has been to you, our happiness would still be guaranteed.
Whilst I wish I’d had the chance to get to know you better, is it possible I do know a little of the man you were? When I look at Scott do I somehow know you? Is it true that I see much of you remains alive in him?
Did your eyebrows twitch skywards when you said something
funny or cheeky, and did your eyes screw up cutely
when you laughed? Did you always show
concern for others before you thought about yourself? Had a windfall lottery come your way would
you have sought to improve the fortunes of others before taking anything for yourself? Did your mood always shine like the sun and
never turn grey like the rain? Did you
bring life, soul and laughter to every room you walked into? Could you not pass a stranger by without
showing them your warm smile and greeting them with a kind word? Could your friends play a joke on you because you'd take it on those broad shoulders and with a smile? Did you always see the good in people and
never the bad?
Tell me, dear Duncan, was this you? It must be so, because all of this I see in the husband I adore. I look at pictures of you and see your characterful expressions mirrored on his face too. I hear him quote your rules on life almost daily. I don’t need him to tell me that you were his hero, and the one person by whom he measures himself. Somehow, when I look at him, I feel that I've not been entirely robbed of knowing you.
A voice so loud, they’d swear you could be heard in the next County. I know someone else whose voice booms just as yours did.
I do
know Scott would be humbled to be compared to the father he loved so much, just
as I suspect you would be humbled by all the tributes you so richly deserve. That self-effacing quality is part of him, as it must have been part of you.
I will
miss the moments that I shall never get to share with you, the things I shall
never get to tell you, and I regret not being given the chance to be the
daughter-in-law I hope you’d have come to love.
You were so many things to so
many people: “Big Dunc”, a class act, a legend, a footballing icon, a
larger-than-life character, a friend. But most importantly you were a much-loved Husband, Father and Grandfather to the family you prized above any trophy you held aloft.
With a heart so big, a presence so felt, we know that you will never be far away. May your spirit always be with us, your words of advice always be heeded, and your laughter always heard.
God bless.
From your daughter-in-law with love
