I didn’t get to say goodbye.

I didn’t get to say goodbye.

I’m looking at your mischievous eyes, your smiling face. Holding you in my hand. Talking to your picture. I’m reliving razzle, dazzle, champagne-style nights out – cork popping, high kicking, cabaret nights whilst talking to your picture.

Herbert you were the scene stealer, the crowd pleaser, the trailblazer – a philanthropist, businessman and showman. Outspoken, you bet ya; outrageous, not half, and knowing you’re gone takes the cherry off the cake, the custard off the pie and the lights off the Christmas tree, because you were the finishing touch.

I’m looking at your picture saying goodbye for you passed away before I got there. I’m talking to you one to one, wishing you could have held on. I’m gently laughing with you, reminiscing and chatting away. Most of all I’m thanking you for the encouragement, the inner strength to stand up for what you believe. For allowing everyone to sometimes be the outsider but never wrong.

Goodbye Herbert, your spirit lives on.

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