R.I.P

I've been in Blipworld for a week now and it has sneaked into every corner of my life. It seems the Blip filter was installed in my brain when my attention was elsewhere. Too late now.

Thanks to everyone who has ever posted and let me gaze and listen in to their lives; everyone who has borne witness to my world(view) so far; all the people who set this world up and keep it running and everyone who has welcomed me and/or commented - all appreciated. And a big thanks to Flower Spirit for introducing me to Blip. I've been something of a mute blipper this first week (re commenting) - my eyes being bigger than my mouth for once. This will change - no idea when. It feels a little voyeuristic to look and not comment.

Today I realised there must be an eyeworm (as well as an earworm - thanks 1life). When I saw Red's post of The Blipper Blipped it triggered a memory of this snap I took of my Dad opening a Christmas present - probably in the early seventies. Then I couldn't get it out of my head. So I had to turn the house upside down to find the old snapshot in the (very messy) archives - and the house is already turned upside down 'cause I'm decorating .... double/triple chaos now. But I had to do it - and then I had to find this little piece which I wrote for the local paper to go with it. So thanks guys - you really started something here and I have NO IDEA where it will lead ............

Obituary: James John Mahoney 1918 -2005
Jim was born in Liverpool, the seventh of eight children just at the end of the First World War (1918 BC he used to joke 'Before Crisps'). By the time he reached his early teens both of his parents and three of his elder sisters had died, leaving Jim and his younger brother Chris to be taken in by relatives. Jim left school at fourteen and went to work in Liverpool docks where he became fascinated by the glamour of the early cruise liners. At sixteen he signed up with the Rena Del Pacifica and set sail for South America. For the next sixteen years Jim was at sea in the Merchant and the Royal Navies. During the war he saw active service in the Atlantic, Pacific and Mediterranean and was awarded the Atlantic Star, the Burma Star, The Italy Star, the 1939-45 Star and the War Medal.

While he was stationed in the Holy Loch during the war Jim met Betty McArthur, who he described as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At the end of the war Jim and Betty married, set up home in Dunoon and produced two daughters, Jean and Grace.

Always a hard-working man, when he was invalided out of the navy Jim retrained as a motor mechanic working in Wilson's Garage for some twenty years. Eventually he was responsible for running the agricultural services division in Sandbank. Jim loved this job because it involved travelling to outlying farms, meeting all sorts of people and learning how to repair and maintain the whole range of farm machinery. Jim always loved an engineering challenge whether it was Heath Robinson repairs to keep friends' cars on the road or mastering the intricacies of diesel marine engines when he returned to sea as chief engineer on Western Ferries in the 1970's.

Jim was proud of the achievements of his daughters who were the first members of his extended family to go to university. He was thrilled when Jean married and gave him two grandsons, Al and Andy. Right up till the end of his life he would recount memories of holidays in the Lake District or abroad with 'the boys'.

Throughout his life Jim was known for his attention to detail - from the gleaming brass in 'his' engine room, to the shoes polished each day that contributed to his reputation as 'the best dressed man in Dunoon'. After his retirement, and Betty's death in 1991, Jim became more isolated and was sustained by the many small kindnesses of those he came in contact with day to day. In these years Jim was a familiar figure striding along the seafront in all weathers or patrolling his stretch of beach in Kirn, enjoying the passing company. Even into his eighties and after suffering a severe stroke in 2001 Jim never lost his sense of style or his sense of humour.

Jim was a proud man, scarred by the many losses in his early life he could be difficult. It's debatable whether he was harder on himself or on those around him. He coped amazingly well with the disabilities that befell him after the stroke; but what was all but unbearable to him was to be dependent on anyone for anything. In the last years of his life Jim gradually became more tolerant of the kindness of strangers. He was blessed to have some wonderful carers who loved him despite his gruffness.

Jim was an independent man who knew how to work and to survive. He survived the First World War, the flu pandemic, the loss of his parents to cancer and his sisters to T.B, he survived the depression and the war. He wasn't going to let a major stroke stop him. In 2001 the doctors gave him six months to live and he lived on for another four years - just to prove them wrong. This man had fighting spirit. Life gave him four extra years to learn something about love and loyalty. He taught us all about dignity in adversity. His was a character hewn from the poverty and loss of his times. For all his faults Jim was a remarkable man who will be sorely missed by his family and all who knew him as a 'well kent face' about Dunoon. To all the local people whose kindness kept him going - know that 'the kindness we show and the love we give keep changing the world long after we leave it behind'.