The following eulogy was read by Jim's son, James Mearns, during the funeral in Bridlington on Friday 25th February 2011. I’d like to start by thanking everyone who has come here today from both near and far in order to pay their respects and to say their goodbyes to our dad, Jim Mearns. This is a difficult and extremely sad day for all of us and so it’s nice that we can come together and remember what dad meant to us. Everyone here will have their own memories of dad and we’d very much like you to share them with us. At the wake, we’ll be encouraging you all to contribute as many stories and anecdotes as possible to the Book of Condolences. As a family, we’d very much like to thank all the staff of the Macmillan Wold GP Unit at Bridlington hospital for all their kindness and care of dad within his last few days. They made an extremely difficult and painful time for us more bearable and enabled dad to be as comfortable as possible before he died. After several years of illness, he was diagnosed with Motor Neurone’s Disease in March 2010 and spent almost a year cared for by his wife Sue. In that time, he got progressively weaker and less able as all his muscles deteriorated but somehow he still managed to retain his cheeky sense of humour. Dad was born in the Avenue hospital Bridlington, the son of Jimmy and Gwendoline on the 8th January 1942. He was the second of three children. His sister Pat is sadly no longer with us but his brother Pete is here today to say his goodbyes. In 1964, during his first marriage to Wendy, Carolyn was born, followed two years later by Susan. A short time later, the family moved to Exeter where dad worked at a foundry making gas meters. After his first marriage ended, Dad moved back to his beloved Bridlington. He very much enjoyed the summer holidays spent with Carolyn and Susan and they also have very strong memories of the time the three of them spent together, whether it was playing swingball with his workmates or holidays to Blackpool and Minehead. In 1976, Jim met and then later married his second wife Sue. At the same time, he also inherited two step-children in Jackie and Neil but, true to his nature, he never treated them any differently from his own children. When I was born in 1981, my dad saw his family as complete. As a family, we all have many happy memories of our times together, particularly the many family holidays where dad would jokingly refer to us all as the Griswalds on tour. Ultimately, he was very much the family man. He idolised my mum and adored each of his 5 children, 10 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. Renewing his wedding vows with my mum 18 months ago was a beautiful occasion and something that demonstrated how much they meant to one another. Ultimately, he was never happier than when surrounded by members of his family – although maybe not when Wolves were playing on a Saturday afternoon! He always appeared to be happy with his lot in life and never wasted time complaining about the possessions he didn’t have or the things he hadn’t achieved. He might jokingly state that he wanted a bigger tv to watch the sport, but then what man doesn’t want a bigger tv? Dad was a very special man who touched the lives of everyone he met. Everyone here will no doubt remember his sense of humour and his ability to take the mickey out of everyone and anything. Yes, he truly was an equal opportunist mickey taker! But it was all gentle ribbing and never meant to hurt. As kids we were given a never ending stream of nicknames such as Gershwin, Ramsbottom, Lavender Lips, Chip in Shorts, Trej, Fingers and Shhhh amongst others and dad would chuckle each time he said them. Which was a lot! He absolutely loved to talk and to play with words and make up silly phrases and sentences which, for a child, was hilarious. If he wasn’t teasing us with fictitious chocolate oranges, then he was suggesting we were talking too much by asking if we’d taken our “anti babble pills!” He had many a corny joke to tell but often he struggled to get to the punchline himself cos he was laughing so much. As mentioned previously, Dad was born and brought up in Bridlington and many of you here today will have known him a very long time. He very much loved Bridlington and, as much as he enjoyed going on holiday, he was always happy to be back in his own home and in his home town. He talked fondly of his time as a teenager working at Housten’s grocers in the town centre but most of his working life was spent at Mixconcrete (latterly Pioneer and then Hanson’s) on Pinfold Lane where many lifelong friends were made. I personally remember many happy times playing cricket with him and his workmates. He was sport mad and obsessed with football and cricket in particular. He became a lifelong supporter of Wolverhampton Wanderers in the 1950’s, listening to their matches on the radio and remaining loyal to them even when they fell from being one of the top teams of the 50’s and 60’s into the old fourth division in the mid-80’s. In more recent years, he’s seen them rise back up through the leagues and had the chance to go to Molineux stadium twice – once for his 60th birthday and again in September last year. On both occasions, he got to meet some of the officials and team players and he enjoyed the experience immensely. Dad’s other obsession was undoubtedly music and, in particular, the American ballad singer Johnny Mathis. Dad often described Johnny as the “eighth wonder of the world”, but to us, Dad deserved that title more. He first saw Johnny Mathis live in concert in 1960 and managed to see him another 4 times before he died. After his diagnosis, my mum found out that Johnny was playing a few selected dates in America and so, in order to make sure he could see his idol one last time, we arranged a trip over to New York in October – safety in numbers and a lovely memory as well. By this stage, Dad’s MND was making everyday tasks more and more difficult. He could no longer talk, couldn’t eat and was confined to a wheelchair. Far from pleasant a situation to be in. But dad was so happy on the evening he and my mum set off from the hotel to the concert and it was lovely to see him get a new lease of life for a short time. Dad also loved his food and could definitely be described as a big eater. On one occasion after a night out with friends in Scarborough, he called into a fish and chip shop just before closing time and asked them what they had left. The assistant told him they had 5 fish and some chips left and so dad said he would buy the lot. By the time they were back in Brid, my dad had finished off all 5 portions and then capped the night off with a pound of ice cream and a punnet of strawberries! He also once managed to eat a huge, cheesecake designed for consumption in restaurants and service stations in about 2 sittings. In restaurants, he would often tell waiters that the only thing wrong with his meal was that there just wasn’t enough. But he was very adventurous with his food especially when he went out for a meal. He would switch effortlessly between ordering a rump steak or a sirloin steak and if he was feeling particularly daring he would have a nice fillet steak. He also loved his tomato soup, but if it wasn’t Heinz then he ate with an air of caution. He was never a keen lover of fish or any seafood though, so much so that, when he accidentally ate some squid rings on holiday, he was adamant to his dying day that they were onion rings! Dad passed away peacefully last Wednesday after a year of suffering from Motor Neurone’s Disease. I’m thankful now for the time we were able to spend with him and for the chance we had to say goodbye. A great man was taken from us, but we have so many fantastic memories of the years we spent with him. From the many cards and comments that have been made to us, and based on the large number of people here today, I think it’s safe to say that he was so well loved. He was a fabulous man who was so easy to love and will be incredibly missed by us all. I’d like now to conclude with a poem we have chosen which conveys our feelings at this time and the huge void in our lives that dad’s passing has left. Poem – The Broken Chain We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name, In life we loved you dearly; in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone. For part of us went with you, the day God called you home. You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide, And though we cannot see you, you are always at our side. Our family chain is broken, and nothing seems the same, But as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.