When I was a little girl Dai CoFu was a formidable character.  A big, tall (from a child’s perspective) man who dominated the room when he entered.  I remember sneaking into his room (when he lived with us) with my sister and jumping on his bed many times or playing with his remote control cars and boats. My Auntie Natalie used to tell me ‘Don’t touch this…it belongs to Dai CoFu…every time I went to touch things that I shouldn’t - that’s me, being the inquisitive child. 
When we were growing up Dai CoFu would frequently visit us and bring my brother his newest made remote control car, boat and even trucks for him to play with in our back garden.  Mostly the cars and trucks got smashed up against the stone steps or the brick wall, my brother used to go too fast! Dai CoFu would laugh and he always had the big rolls of brown packing tape and glue ready to mend the broken parts.

Dai CoFu was a constant figure in the background as we grew up and I went to secondary school, college and then university.  He was always there.  Dai CoFu met Dominic and immediately got on well with him and helped put him at ease.  All the family did. My wedding day came and Dai CoFu was forever the chatty one, the one that went to all the guests that attended and would strike up a conversation with everyone at the party.  If no-one knew him, by the end of the evening, they would.  He was that guy.

Dai CoFu loved children, and when his great nieces and nephews arrived he was there on hand to cuddle and coo over them whenever he could. He always spoke so fondly about his God daughter Chloe. He would bring presents and gifts whenever he visited and relished seeing his extended family.  

Once Dai CoFu was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia at Christmas back in 2018, I distinctly remember, I was in shock…the fact that my formidable Dai CoFu was poorly, sick and in Hospital over that Christmas was very upsetting and quick.  Unfortunately we didn’t get to visit him as COVID struck the following March.  My whatsapp has never been so busy.  We shared countless messages of support to him whilst he was at Addenbrooke hospital having his regular treatments every week.  Our girls who called him ‘Co Gung’ loved doing videos to show him what they had been up to during the lockdown days, weeks and months that lay ahead.  They used to send him ‘Good luck’ videos when he was going in for treatment. Merryn (3yo) used to sing and play the piano in high heel shoes to entertain him; and she would ‘pretend’ to read one of her favourite books to him.  She even made a sock puppet for him to see one time and named her ‘Anabelle’. Co Gung asked if he could play with Anabelle when we could next see him and she said ‘yes’. I remember the voice message he sent me where he laughed out loud when I sent him a video of when our youngest (Merryn) got a pair of scissors to her hair and cut a massive chunk out of the top of her head.  He said ‘it’s time to see the hairdressers!’  It’s during this time that Dai CoFu and I had plenty of one to one talks.  It’s hard to always see family when they are so far away.  It means so much to remember how he missed seeing his friends or family; driving in his car (no matter how far) to visit them.  It was one of these times he talked about a memory he had when he visited a friend and his friend took him fishing. It was one of his highlights catching fish, and just enjoying life. He missed being able to go out and about since being diagnosed.  He spoke highly of the staff nurses and doctors that looked after him in Addenbrooke - for that we are forever grateful to them for allowing us to have had him for at least a few more years.

Just a week before he passed, I was extremely lucky to have been able to see Dai CoFu. The hospital was very strict with visitors. Spending those few hours with him, squeezing and holding his hand, me chatting with him even though he was drifting in and out of consciousness was a Godsend. His eyes made contact with mine and I was sure the Dai CoFu I knew, saw me. I asked him if he was in pain.  He shook his head slightly and whispered ‘No.’  I asked him what he wanted.  He said ‘Apple.’  I said ‘Apple? Where?’ He said, ‘next door.’  I was confused, but I thought I would go and see the nurse and see if he could eat anything even though the nurses had already told me he was Nil By Mouth.  As I walked from his bed I glanced over at his neighbours table, and there on the table was a bag of red juicy apples….that’s Dai CoFu, he knows how to make me smile. From that moment on I will always look at an apple in a different light, now and forever remember that moment.

Rest in Peace now, you are missed, the only Dai CoFu.