Unsung Hero

My best friends father died 35 years ago and last night I had a dream about him. Cyril was a tall gangly bus driver who was always making jokes and making us teenage girls laugh. Cyril had also saved someones life in a fire once which shows that not only was he funny and kind but he was very brave too. He was only about 40 when he died of cancer. I can vividly remember the week he died. The cancer had travelled to his brain and even though he was medicated with morphine he still cried through the night in pain. My best friend K and I would lie in her single bed and listen to the soothing voice of her mother as she tried to comfort him. In my dream last night Cyril wasn't a bus driver but a butcher and not Ks father but her husband, He was still funny and great company but at one point in the dream he stopped joking around and went very quiet and serious. I hugged him and felt how thin and frail he was behind the big personality and I promised to love him forever.  
Earlier this week I met K for a drink and we talked about her father, who was actually her step father. K was saying how tragic it was that Cyril had died at such an early age and how he would have loved being a Grandad. It was a role he certainly would have relished and thrown himself into with gusto. His grandchildren would have had wonderful times with him and loved him very much. Ks 'real' dad left when she was 2 years old and has had very little input, both as a father and a grandfather, although by all accounts he went on to have another family in which he fulfils those roles.
The impact of Cyril's personality and kindness means that 35 years after his death he is still remembered fondly, even by people like me whose life he touched for a very short time.