For H: What I wanted to say...
I spoke on behalf of the family at H’s funeral. The plan was to go over the points raised here in sequence, mid way through it, I broke down and cried uncontrollably. Here is the original text, for the record… My earliest, lucid memories of growing up are inextricably linked to green bowls of soup and stew, and Sunday afternoon cooking marathons. Back in those days, in the early eighties, extenuating circumstances required that the family lived in two homes in two different cities. One of the enduring images from that time is the meticulous attention to detail and the foresight to plan long term with which both homes were run with incredible efficiency. ...