'Fun time Charlie', Shirley once called him. Pretty apt on reflection, that. In fact, the saying fitted him perfectly I'd say! Charlie was always good for a laugh. Even in the hospital as the pain of Motor Neurone Disease set in, Charl was still able to poke a bit of fun at his fellow patients - the man that walked around all day, the man who threw a glass of water over my head - that's a true story by the way. A proud catholic, forgive him father but he did skip the odd mass as a boy, opting instead to bathe in the Maltese sun. On one occasion his mother caught him in the act, and proceeded to march him back to Church to tell the priest what he had done. Charlie moved to the UK at the age of 16. A typical lad, he was always getting into scrapes as local boys took exception to his Maltese accent. Even the odd policeman used to give him abuse back then. Charlie and I spent many hours chatting about his life at the Southampton Arms pub in West End, and before that the Bullseye in Sholing. Charlie worked at sea, spending many happy years on the QE2. He visited so many countries around the world, and had a story to tell from every port, like the time he found an outlet selling 120 per cent proof rum in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad. Suffice to say he brought a few gallons! Charlie loved going down the pub. He loved a drink and a smoke, but more importantly he loved the company of others, and looking at the congregation today, I know he will have enjoyed so many moments of happiness and joy with all of you here today. He was a perennial joker, too. One day, when Maria was little, she arrived home from school and asked her dad where her rabbit 'Snowy' was. "In the pot," was her dad’s reply. She wasn't, luckily, although Maria was emotionally scarred for a while there! Charlie's rabbit stew was legendary though. I’m sure if you ever had it, you’d agree! In later life, Charlie loved nothing more than spending time with his grandchildren. Many times he and Shirley would come around to our house for tea, Charlie playing with his Naughty Little Man and Little Woman, as he called them, before we had some dinner, Charlie drinking his favourite, red wine with diet coke, before we all had a sing-song on the guitar. Charlie, like myself, loved Manchester United, and I am so glad that we went to Old Trafford together in 2011 – the first game either of us saw there, even if he did moan all the way there and back on the train! My wife, Maria, was born in 1969, and despite Charlie’s initial reaction to her birth – apparently he groaned when the midwife told him he had a little girl – Charlie loved his daughter more than anything. Looking back at our wedding photos this week, photos from happier times, the recurring theme is Charlie’s smile, beaming with pride on the happiest day of his daughter’s life. When Charlie was first diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease back in March, his world – and ours –changed forever. He fought bravely, defying doctors’ orders to drink and eat a final few times in April, before the illness really took hold. The way Shirley cared for and looked after Charlie was inspirational, and I’m sure if he could have, he would have thanked her for her amazing display of love towards him. Charlie, it was a pleasure to know you, I learnt so much from you and had so many laughs with you along the way. I will always make sure your memory shines brightly in our family - the kids are young but they worship their Crazy Nanu. We will always remember you, and the joy and laughter you brought to everyone you met. You often told me you saw me as a son, and I am proud to have had you as a dad. God bless you, Charlie.