Hello and thank you all for coming today. For
any one who doesn’t know me, Rolf was my father. He was also father to Lotte
and Warren, father-in-law to Mehdi and Will and grandfather to 6 wonderful
grandsons: Jack, Ben, Sam, Joseph, Tobias and Arlo who brought him great joy. Throughout
his life, he was also a cherished son, much-loved brother and uncle, respected colleague
and, as many of you here knew him, a good friend.



Most importantly to him, he was a husband.
Married for 42 years to Susan or Mopsi whom he adored more than life itself.



I don’t want to focus today on the
chronology of his life. While interesting, it would take too long and were he
here, he would have fallen asleep or lost patience before we got him to
adulthood.



Instead I want to share with you a couple of
stories about Rolf, to explain a little about the impact he has had on me, what
I have learned from the all too short time I have had the privilege of being
his daughter and what I think he would like us all to take away from today.



Starting with this last point is easy. Rolf
would want us all to leave here ready to raise a glass, or more, in celebration
of his life and to remember him with laughter. My dad had a natural ability to
make people laugh (through clean means or otherwise), to love and live life to
the full, and never to take a situation or himself too seriously. He would be
disappointed seeing so many of us here today in black, preferring bright vivid
shades in his own clothes.



It’s hard choosing just one memory to share so
I am very grateful to Laurie for helping out with some recent examples. One
story that I heard yesterday for the first time involved my dad, with his brother
and sister, trying to abscond from their third floor flat in post war Germany.
The aim was to make it out to play with the neighbourhood kids without alerting
their very strict, formidable German mother. The result was my uncle and aunt
being caught hoisting my father out of the window, on a chair supported by some
knotted together bed sheets. That was my dad, always the first to come up with
some new mischievious prank and always leading by example, being the first to
try it out.



The other aspect of my dad that I would like
to talk a little about today, and one by which I know he would want to be remembered
is of Rolf the family man and friend. For his family and friends there is
nothing my dad would not have done. In the last couple of years he was always
picking-up someone or other from the airport, always selflessly with a smile, a
joke or two and a welcoming manner.



To those he loved he was loyal, affectionate
and generous. All of you know how much he loved Spain, and many of you will
remember how little time he spent here in 2012 when my mum was facing her own
battle with cancer. Weeks and months at a time he spent in England helping my
mum, through surgery, 6 rounds of chemotherapy and 3 weeks of radiotherapy.
Anyone who knew him could tell he hated every minute, but he did not once
complain. Instead he accepted the situation with dignity, bravely tried to take
it all in his stride (even attempting to learn to cook at the age 69) and
looking forward to the time he would get his Mopsi back to Quesada for good. Then
when it was all over and he was due his Indian summer in Spain, my sister and I
gave him another two grandsons and he came straight back over to England to
meet them, and then again to share their first Christmas.



Being a husband and father was everything to
my dad. Nothing brought him greater pleasure or purpose in life, and he fought
so hard in recent weeks to make it to June 12th so he could share my
sister’s wedding day with her.



I know many of you that have spent time with
Rolf in recent years, will have similar warm memories of him as a friend. I
suspect many of you will have had the benefit of his welcoming hospitality and
never ending supply of overly generous cocktails and drinks.
















So thank you all for coming today to
celebrate Rolf’s life. We are very touched to see so many of you here to share
this day with us.



To my dad (on behalf of Lotte and myself) I
would like to say thank you. Thank you for bringing us into this world, for
loving us so completely no matter what and most importantly, thank you for
showing us how to do the right thing and live with dignity and integrity. Your
going leaves a great hole in so many lives, you will be so very much missed but
your impact for those lucky enough to have known and loved you will live on in
us forever.