I didn’t get to spend as much time with Uncle Paul as some of my cousins and family members, being that I’m in the US. But what I remember about him was his love of race cars. And how I always tried to get him to let me drive his fancy cars. He always had something fancy. And I always wanted to drive it. And I loved watching his face twist a little bit uncomfortably after I asked - and I always asked. Just to see if he’d ever say yes.  He never did! 

The thing I remember about that car (even though I never got to drive it) were the long talks we’d have in that car as he drove me home from whatever outing/meal we were at, on the occasions that I was visiting the UK. We didn’t see each other much over the years, but I have very fond memories of the long chats we would have in his car, how he would let me poke fun at him, or how he would remind me to listen to my mother.  

I’m sad that as a family we can’t all be together to say our goodbyes to Uncle Paul. But I’m glad that he was surrounded by those who loved him so much. I’ll always remember the look on his face, the half amused, half terrified look in his eyes whenever I would ask to take a spin in his car. It’s what I loved about him. His kindness always wanted to win out. He wanted to make me happy even if doing so might make him miserable. He was so kind. That’s what I remember most about him.