Blog 4
My father died unexpectedly on 30 August 2010, leaving behind his wife Jean, his children Lesley, Wendy and Stewart and his grandchildren Amy, Jonathan, Lisi and Sofia.
MEMORIES OF CHARLES STANLEY FAULKES, HUSBAND, FATHER AND GRANDFATHER
Char
Met Jean in the Rex Cinema in their teens, they were together for 59 years. He was her soul mate.
Going to beaches in Devon and Cornwall on cold, rainy summer days and ‘Char’ saying, “If you don’t go in for a swim we are never coming back to this beach. We haven’t come all this way not to go into the water” So, shivering and teeth chattering we went into the waves.
Back from the banana boats with more bananas and Milkman extraordinaire!
Telling jokes, and then smiling mischievously and winking
Loving Mario Lanza, Nessun Dorma, strong mints, ‘cowboy and Indian movies, swimming and the garden.
A man with ruddy cheeks, a prominent red nose, a strong frame, an even stronger Bristolian accent and warbling whistle to call his wife and flock of children to him. Stewart, his son was bewildered when he was at school and Char came to parent’s evening and a girl in Class 6 said he was good looking!
A miraculous DIY and gardening ‘jack of all trades’ with a mastery of many things…a builder, plumber, electrician, decorator, carpenter and all round ‘Percy Thrower’ or Alan Titchmarsh who loved buying gadgets.
A very clever man who never had the educational opportunity…maybe because he spent his time trying to escape from the classroom through the window whilst the teacher was writing on the board.
Master player of Scrabble, where there was no word, he would find one
An uncanny ability to remain calm during a plague of wasps during a picnic whilst the rest of the family screamed and ran about. And his unwavering belief -”Stay still and they won’t hurt you”.
Skillful at flying kites, able to kick a ball a very long way so that when we were kids we had to run far away to retrieve the ball and taught us ‘pick up fives’ and card games.
Had fun teaching French Cricket, able to get past the best of your defences.
Driving us all in the red Robin Reliant on a Sunday day trip to Weston or Weymouth, whilst listening to ‘Sing Something Simple’ all the way home or taking us on holiday loaded up with home grown runner beans, tomatoes and rhubarb.
The gurgling of homemade wine from large bell jars in the airing cupboard, displacing lots of mother’s washing. The wine produced often tasting of whisky or sherry or very nearly wine.
Enjoyed a slice of cake with nearly always the same creased facial expression and “Its sickly, I don’t know why you buy that rubbish”.
Insisting he didn’t like ‘rubbish’ i.e Cake, Chocolate, but having a bar of chocolate in the fridge.
Trying to teach us to dive, when swimming.
Admitting little enjoyment from soaps and yet watching them all.
A rather quiet and shy man with a bark at times with no intention to bite.
Obsessed about Lidl bargains, cod-liver oil, garlic and chilli.
On the day he died there was a most beautiful sunset, an astonishing gold sun projected brash oranges and yellows onto clouds above making them mauve and purple.
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