Keith Newell

Looking around this room, it’s clear just how many lives Dad touched and how much he was loved.

Family meant everything to Dad. He loved being surrounded by the people he cared about and always wanted to know what everyone had been up to.

He absolutely adored his adopted grandchildren and was always asking for updates. He was incredibly proud of Laura and Luke and took great joy in seeing the people they had become.

Dad worked hard throughout his life and took great pride in providing for his family. He made sure we had opportunities, holidays and experiences that gave us memories we still talk about today.

He also faced more than his fair share of challenges. He survived a brain aneurysm at just 28 years old and later suffered a heart attack in his forties. But if you knew Dad, you’ll know he wasn’t one to dwell on those things. He simply got on with life and made the most of every day.

There were caravan holidays with friends, family adventures and plenty of journeys that didn’t quite go to plan. In fact, getting lost became something of a tradition, earning our trips the affectionate nickname of “Newell’s Tours.” Looking back, those unexpected detours often became the best stories.

Dad never took himself too seriously. If we went out for a meal, it usually wouldn’t be long before Dad was being labelled “trouble” by the waiting staff. He loved a laugh and enjoyed making other people smile.

Before his heart attack, Dad loved tackling projects around the house, often alongside Uncle John. Now, it has to be said, not every project was a success. One that stands out was the brick barbecue he built. It only got used a couple of times because it would cook your trousers long before it cooked anything on the grill. It became one of those family stories that never stopped being funny.

Dad also had a special bond with dogs. One of the most memorable was Blue, who used to go to work with him at the weighbridge in the quarry here in Willington. Blue became so popular with the lorry drivers that they would take him out on trips in their lorries. To say he was spoilt would be an understatement.

Later in life, when Mum and Dad lived near Hunstanton, one of Dad’s greatest pleasures was walking along the beach with Mum and Missy.

Mum and Dad had a truly special relationship. They came as a pair. They did everything together. Through good times and difficult times, they stood side by side. This October would have marked sixty years of marriage, a remarkable achievement and a reflection of the love they shared.

Dad certainly had his quirks. We used to joke that he squeezed when he walked. He was careful with his money, but he was also incredibly generous and always thought of others before himself.

He always seemed to have a running battle with something too. For a while it was a squirrel in the garden. More recently it was the pigeons.

For me personally, one of the things I will miss most is knowing that Dad was always there. Whenever I needed help, advice or simply an extra pair of hands, nothing was ever too much trouble.

Dad built a wonderful life. He worked hard, loved deeply, made lifelong friendships and created countless happy memories for those around him.

We will miss his humour, his stories, his quirks, his generosity and his unwavering support. We will miss the phone calls too. Dad would always put the phone on speaker so Mum wouldn’t miss the conversation. Then, just when you thought you were nearly finished, he would hand the phone over to Mum so she wouldn’t could have the same conversation all over again. At the time it made us smile, but looking back now, it perfectly summed them up. Mum and Dad shared everything, and Dad always wanted to make sure she was part of it.

More than anything, we will miss his presence. We will miss knowing that he was there at the end of the phone, ready to help, ready to listen, or ready with a joke and a laugh.

Thank you, Dad, for everything.

For your love, your kindness, your humour and your friendship.

We love you, we miss you, and we will never forget you.