But most of all I recall the three virtues that I believe he lived his life by, and which I feel he has passed on to us; love, respect and adventure.

Love, because as a family we were always awash with closeness. Even through difficult and trying times, the unconditional family bond, almost indescribable in words, would always surface.

Respect, because my dad was a proper man – good manners, honour, dignity and a sense of fair play were traits that he always gave so much importance to, He was always very well organised and smart in appearance. As well as respecting others, he respected himself. He understood standards, and drummed into all of us throughout our lives – if a job is worth doing, it's worth doing well.

And adventure, because my dad was always keen to get we boys active and involved in sports, be it watching or participating. As kids, he would organise exciting treasure hunts for us, he would teach us card tricks and how to play Yahtzee and Maj Yong. All his life he had a passion for sailing, and while he may never have made the Olympic team, his attic full of medals points to a considerable amount of skill and expertise in this field.

In recent years my dad's casino nights, at Christmas and new year parties, had his neighbours queuing round the street to get into his house. He has this uncanny knack of bringing people out of their shells. Often the quietest, more inwardly people would discover a side of themselves they never knew existed when befriending my dad.

My dad loved Liquorice Allsorts. He also loved the music of Rod Steward and Abba. And as a grandad he was simply the best. All his grandchildren relished their visits to his house in Devon, because they knew how much fun they would have. Be it helping him with jobs, taking part in the treasure hunts he would organise, or sampling his amazing cooking.

The reason I write about him is that, last week, he was taken from us. Ripped away far too early, after losing his fight with an evil and utterly unfair type of cancer.

But I don't want to remember how he died, I want to remember how he lived. He lived a good life, and through the tears, this is something that makes me happy. He was an achiever – a man of standards and attention to detail And without a shadow of a doubt, he had the tidiest garage in Devon. The world is our loss without him, but heaven's gain. From now on God will have perfect two-tone lawns, and will always know where his tools are.