Reesey’s words to Doc -29 February 2008 I find it hard to know whether to use the name John or Doc today to talk about the man I’m saying goodbye to. To me, it doesn’t matter, what’s in a name? I loved him as both. But if it’s all the same to you I’ll refer to him as Doc. He often said “Don’t get confused by the suit”. He was known by this name for years, and he dined out on the many versions of why this came about. Doc did the “hard man” version on occasions but the reality is that in his youth he was a member of the British Red Cross and volunteered to run the touchline at Ninian Park complete with First Aid Bag ready to come to the aid of an injured Cardiff City player, in the hope that they would get up and go on to score the winning goal. He was mostly disappointed in the result but he kept on supporting the team with his “magic sponge”. He was at Ninian Park a couple of weeks ago watching “his” team reach the quarter finals of the FA Cup and part of me hopes they lose in the next round so that he will have seen them at their best, the other part of me wants them to be at Wembley and we will all be cheering them on and I will be wearing Doc’s scarf!!! I’m not really a football fan, I prefer rugby and despite being a full blown English girl I support Wales but because Doc was so passionate about Cardiff City I have tried to become involved and share his passion. And that was what our life was really about, sharing. We shared so much. Once Doc had acknowledged that he actually had a “girlfriend” (which took some time) we were rarely apart in either the Billabong or the Claude and also at our home, first in Claude Road and lately in Inverness Place. We shared so much. We were a team. He called me “Director of Operations” or “Minister for Home Affairs” in as much that I was always the one to remind him where he’d left his car and make sure he had a clean shirt. In return he was always there for me. We shared a passion for cooking and fine wine. Once Doc had a regular wage coming in he ensured that the home bills were paid and the boys in the pub had had been bought a drink (he never forgot how many drinks they bought him when he was down on his luck) he would then spend his hard earned money on the most lovely food and wine that we would either cook and eat together or share with our friends. He rarely had anything “concrete” to show at the end of a month’s wages but he had loads of fun! I often used to say that he had Champagne taste with a lemonade budget, but it didn’t make any difference – “Shut up Reesey and drink!” he would say, “I’ll get some overtime, there must be some criminals out there somewhere!” So we’d share the last glass. We shared a passion for doing what we said we’d do. If anybody ever asked Doc for his advice, help with buying something he’d say “I’ll make a few phone calls I might know someone who can help and I’ll get back to you” and he always did, even if he didn’t have the answer which was required. As a couple we could never understand people who promise and then fail to deliver. We shared compassion for the less able – he supported my own charity efforts linked with my work and I admired him so much for his previous work with the mentally handicapped. His touch could be so gentle and I was lucky to experience it. We shared his success with his studies. We “role played” for his Police Station exams, me the bad cop, him the hot shot defence. Doc passed! Boy did we party! We shared his sorrow. The death of Doc’s beloved father through cancer was a terrible blow and hard for him to recover and pick up his studies, but he did, as much for his father’s sake as for his own. We shared dreams. Hours and hours we would sit at home and drink endless cups of tea and plan the future. Last week a café bar, this week a pole dancing agency ( I struggled with that one!). Like I said before, he was not materialistic, he didn’t dream of making pots of money to buy ostentatious goods, he just wanted to show the world, his friends and family that he was Doc, a Roath Boy, and that he had achieved something. The rest of us thought he’d achieved loads, but for him it was never quite enough! We shared a sense of commitment to our families. Doc appreciated that my ageing and ailing mother was a priority for me and, as such, the dream of a complete lifestyle change was out of the question at the moment for us both. But we were still able to share our thoughts of where we might end up. Our shared home was also an extension of his office. His clients from M&M would frequently visit and he would give up his own time to advise and assist and hopefully improve the chance of their defence. It was in his nature to become personally involved in his cases and I was happy to share in his successes and commiserate with him in his failures. We shared our leisure time, although this was sometimes less than relaxing. A quiet drink after work would quite often turn into a free legal clinic where he would willingly give time and assistance to all who approached him. Doc and I shared our own professional knowledge and expertise with each other. Doc was a man who had never had a bank account till a year ago or used a cash point. As a Financial Advisor I argued forcibly against the cash under the mattress option and he was gradually getting the hang of the chip and pin machine. In return I was enlightened as to what could be described as legal and what couldn’t! But the biggest thing we shared was friends. Most of whom are here today and I am so grateful for the support, loyalty and guidance you all gave to Doc while he was alive and to me now. He has left as he arrived, with nothing in his hand. But he leaves a huge legacy of so many memories which hopefully we can all share later. XXXX