The Author.

My father was the son of Alfred and Beatrist Warburton. He was born 22nd August 1920 in Failsworth near the City of Manchester, England. His parents named him Cecil and he thought his mother wanted him to be a girl when he was a baby dressing him in a bonnet. He often joked about it. His father died when he was fourteen but Beatrice lived into her nineties, his older Brother Wilfred died more recently.

As a young man he loved dancing, he gave me the impression young women were queuing up to dance with him - I don't doubt it! He was handsome and charming and had the ability to make even the poorest dancer look good.

His first place of employment was working as a delivery boy for a Bakery, driving a horse drawn bakers van. His next job was working for the local laundry. I loved to listen to the stories of his experiences.

Dad had lots to tell about the war and what it was like to be a Desert Rat. He remembered vividly what happened when he was due to go into the front line but became ill with jaundice. All his friends who went were killed. He was upset at losing them but believed it was the hand of God that saved him.

He met Peggy my mother at the local dance while stationed in the town called Lewes in east sussex. They married after the war and I was born on 11th May 1948. We lived with Beatrice my grandmother.  Dad joined the Fire Brigade, he told us all about it and the bravery of the firemen, many lost their lives. The north of England had many cotton mills, and firemen died for their heroic deeds in these death traps. Thank God the Lord preserved my fathers life.

When I was six we moved to east sussex. Dad found new employment and having the gift of the gab (so to speak!) went into sales. He started selling Jones sewing machines, then he was a Betterware salesman, after that he ran a mobile grocery shop, from a converted single decker bus. Soon it was time for a complete change, so he learnt a new trade, - painter decorator. He was a perfectionist and whatever he did - he did well.

My father had a wonderful sense of humour and was always telling stories and joking. He had everyone in stitches. He did a wonderful impersonation of Mick Jagger including all the movements. The comedians he loved to copy were Billy Dainty and Max Wall with their funny walks, I often had to leave the room, I feared I would have an accident, I laughed so much it would hurt, I had to beg him to stop.

He loved to sing and was a member of a group called - The Pegs, who did musicals in Polegate village where we lived, I can remember - My Fair Lady and others. He did his rehearsing around the house and "yes" he could sing!

He was a wonderful dad, husband, and grandad. Whenever mum or I wanted to take photographs it was difficult to get him to be sensible, he just wanted to play the fool and pull silly faces.

Dad became a Christian at about sixty-five and avidly studied the bible. He loved the Lord and believed He helped him through a very difficult time when my mother became ill with - P S P - Progressive Supernuclier Palsey,  Lasting seven years. He took care of her until He was eighty-three and mum was seventy-seven. The Doctor admitted her into hospital when she became to ill for us to care for her at home. Dad then came to live with us and visited her every day until she died, it was not long after, that he developed heart failure.

He was not just my dad but my dearest friend whom I spent hours with talking about the Lord, and we would put the world and all its troubles right. My husband thought the world of him, and he, and dad enjoyed mutual dialogue mostly about sport which would bore me to tears. When he was younger he played tennis, snooker, and table tennis and when he could no longer do that he watched sport on TV. But it was the love of Gods Word that took priority and kept him busy. He loved writing and was very competent on the typewriter with poetry, articles, and lastly finishing his book. I miss hearing the tap, tap, of his typewriter keys.

Dad left us to be with the lord quite suddenly in the matter of a few weeks when it was discovered he had terminal cancer. He was a father in a million, an amazing husband, he loved mum in a way I had never seen before. A lovely granddad and uncle, a friend to so many, there are no words to express how much we miss him.

I thank the Lord for choosing dad, he is happier now than he has ever been. He looked forward to being with the Lord and seeing my mum again. We are happy for him because he has his dearest wish.

Always in our hearts, your daughter, Janice.