Sorry if this is disjointed and long-winded but I’m writing from the heart and how I remember.

We’d be playing cricket on St. Nicholas’ school field. You regularly joined in. The wickets would either be a bin or an elaborate pile of stones. The pitch was dirt, dust and cinders, an Indian spinner’s paradise, but you would make your 40 yard ‘Freddie Trueman” run up, rap the bare legs of one of us, twist round to an imaginary umpire, and yell “Howzat”. 
Then from half way round Queensway, Auntie Barbara would holler, “Johhhhnnn, your tea!!!”

”Just one more over”, then he’d sprint, climb through a hole in the fence and face the wrath while he was having his tea.

I remember standing behind the goal at Prinny Hill, Haslingden. Don’t know who you were playing for but you were goalkeeper, covered in slutch from head to toe. But you had cared to take me with you.

Being with you and Uncle Ken at Burnley v Everton Boxing Day 1960. You took a little stool for me to stand on and you pushed me to the front.

Every Sunday we would go to the church service in the morning at Edgeside Baptist and Sunday School in the afternoon. We used to wait for the quarter past one bus at Mill End. Without fail, as the bus appeared round the bend, your head would appear in view through the trees, ‘flying’ down the steps, you’d hurdle the privets of the memorial ground and just make the bus! I can’t remember you ever missing it but you must have done.

Then later, in my dark times, you ‘took me in’. I was at Auntie Ella’s and Uncle Lawrences and they phoned you and Beryl. Beryl just said “You’re staying with us!”.

From that moment we had a lovely relationship, lots of fun, but, sorry, a lot at your expense. You were a little hard of hearing, a little slow to get the joke, but you have that special attribute that few people have, the ability the laugh at yourself. No malice, no ill-feeling, just laughter.

As I ook back, you had no need to take me to places. Nowadays how many would? I always call you Uncle John, never just John, because the ‘uncle’ gives me a tie to you, a bond. Thank you for always being part of me.

So God has pencilled you in for the Heaven 1st X1 cricket team as John ‘Jimmy Anderson’ Grimshaw, you’ve shunned all the Saudi interest and will be turning out on Heaven’s pristine pitches next season,  Burnley will win the Premier League every season and God has changed the bus timetable to twenty past one so you don’t have to charge down Trickett’s steps every Sunday!

Love you. Miss you. See you soon xxx