Tribute
Keith Simpson Lackenby was born at home on Christmas Eve 1945 to parents Grace and Sidney.  Older sister Lillian remembers it clearly including learning how to bath him from the midwife and taking care of her baby brother, especially in the first year of his life.
He went to High Board Primary School in Felling followed by Falla Park Junior School.  Having failed his 11+ he wasn’t headed for grammar school so when the family moved to Leckendale, he went to senior school there.

After school he started a management apprenticeship at the co-op working in the shoe department.  It gave him skills many of the family benefitted from as Dad had the knack of knowing exactly which footwear would suit us, fit and be comfortable. 

Dad met Mum through Scouting.  At a camp they both attended she was rather put out that coffee was the only drink on offer after the meal because she never drank it.  Dad never liked to see someone excluded, particularly when it came to the hospitality of food and drink so he sought out the kitchen and insisted on a cup of tea for Mum.  Little did he know then that it would be the first of thousands of cups he would take to her!

Interestingly a couple of people in the days after Dad died said how good he was at making coffee. Just as Mum only drank tea, he only drank coffee for many years, making a change recently when he took to having tea in the afternoon, often with a ginger biscuit from Ringtons.  He was probably their best customer buying mainly for others.  It particularly amused us that he always took sugar laden chocolate teacakes to his dentist!

Dad starting preaching in the Methodist Church as a teenager and became a local preacher.  This led to him sensing a call to Ordained Ministry and after candidating successfully he started his 4 year full time training at Wesley College, Bristol in 1968, in a room next door to Michael Chesters (who enjoyed his coffee).  They met this year to celebrate their 50 year ordination anniversary and I know he valued that hugely.  

At college he was given the Lightly Scholarship including a book grant.  This enabled him to start a theological library which grew over the years as he believed in keeping up to date.  With my own library well underway, I might need a manse extension for Dad’s books!  Through training, he was proud to achieve his degree then later his MA, given how the 11+ had gone!

After ordination, the family settled in Conisbrough where Stuart and I spent our early years.  Next came Chapeltown where we finished our schooling.  At Grantham Stuart and I both found our start in the world of work.  Him in the DIY retail sector and me at Methodist Publishing House.  Dad ended his active ministry here in Gainsborough.  It was a good last appointment and ministry was so vital to Dad that it seemed right to be here to celebrate his life and I am grateful to Paul, Debbie and all who enabled this.
Dad’s role as a minister shaped family life hugely due to the moving, but many strong and lasting friendships were formed with every appointment.  Numerous other friendships we formed outside of the ministry including our neighbours.  After Mum passed, Dad was grateful for the times he and Tony next door would sit and chat over a (not very Methodist!) whisky.

In the Methodism, ministers don’t retire, they ‘sit down’ and Dad enjoyed being involved in medical ethics work once he wasn’t in circuit.  At his last Presbyteral Synod before sitting down he preached and shared the sermon with me.  Reading it, I learned one of his first funerals was for a 13 year old killed in a hit and run.  Visiting the family he didn’t want to knock on the door as he didn’t know what to say, but when he went in he noted ‘I quickly learned that there was nothing to be said.  These were simply moments of standing in the darkness and sharing grief.  One of the ways of defining what it means actually to love, is to say that love is about abiding, abiding with people in their darkest hour.  Not attempting to give slick or clever answers.  All that is required is just a simple commitment to be with them and pray that we may see the light that the darkness can never extinguish.’  

We saw how Dad could abide with others when he helped a family in the aftermath of the Hillsborough disaster.  It was also present in his prison and other chaplaincy roles.  I’ve said a lot about his ministry, but the reality for us was that Dad was just that to Stuart and I, our Dad, married to our Mum.  

The marriage took place on 15th July 1972 and one of the hardest things when Mum died in 2022 was that it was just a few short weeks before what would have been their Golden Wedding Anniversary.  Mum and Dad started their married life in the manse at Consett which was a big old house with no central heating.  It was while they were there that in March 1974, Stuart was born, a quiet and placid baby who they always said was born asleep.  His peace was well and truly shattered when, in October 1975, I arrived screaming into the world and pretty much continued to be loud from that point on!!!  Stuart was not overly impressed this noisy addition and we had our moments as youngsters, but as adults we have come to value each other hugely and although I am stood up here today because this is me, Stuart has shown a strength and resilience in the practicalities of the death of both of our parents in a way I do not think I could have.

When we were talking about the service Stuart reminded me about Dad’s relationship with our various pets.  His default position was not to want whatever animal seemed to come our way, but he was always won over and could be more soppy with them than the rest of us. He loved Bracken nicknaming her Bracken-ze-Dog.  But his true love was cat Ginger Merlin.  This tiny fluffy kitten came home for one night only as a result of Mum working part-time at a vets. He stayed for his entire life and Dad adored him.  He got away with everything including the times he would climb onto the wardrobe above Dad’s bed then jump onto his stomach from on high.  All you would hear from the room next door was whump, arrrrrrghhhh ‘Bonnie lad, is it time for your breakfast?’

Stuart remembers Dad would take him to the ABC cinema in Doncaster to see the Star Wars films.  His fondest memory is seeing the Return of the Jedi for the first time.  At Christmas and birthdays, presents often included the latest Star Wars toys.  All this led to a life-long love of the movies.

It was also Dad who was instrumental in the purchase of the first computer for Stuart.  It was a ZX-Spectrum that you loaded up using cassette tapes.  Our generation know that sound track!  It led to Stuart’s life-long interest in computing.  Dad reaped the benefit of his investment as Stuart became the long-suffering tech support for both him and Mum.

He also got to grips with the mobile phone… eventually and reluctantly.  When I was in hospital, he surprised me by sending a text and GIF as I didn’t think he knew how to do either, but it became a daily thing while I was poorly and I will treasure those messages now.  The other surprise was how he took to the telephone after Mum died. He particularly appreciated your keeping in touch Judi.  He also enjoyed daily phone calls with his sister Lillian which proved essential in raising the alarm that all was not well.

Dad and I shared a love of poetry and writing poems.  The most recent he shared was one he wrote to say how much he missed mum.  It broke my heart to hear it, but it was beautifully written.  

Dad loved shopping and he and Mum were always seeking out bargains.  When she could no longer cope with London I would join him.  Once this was Father’s Day weekend so I said Pizza Express lunch was on me.  When I revealed I used nectar vouchers to pay he laughed so loudly I thought they’d kick us out!!  He never let me forget it.  I thought it was genius.
The only downside of shopping with Dad was that I did sometimes want the ground to swallow me up when he would take multiple, very reduced price items to the till and ask if there was a discount for bulk purchase.  But the number of times he got one or extra free items was unbelievable.  

Dad often told jokes and had amusing anecdotes, not always appropriate.  Trouble is, we heard the same ones hundreds of times.  When I first introduced my husband Mark to Dad it was at a village fete in Grantham.  Dad told Mark the joke about Prince Charles and the Corgi.  At the time I cringed with embarrassment, but Mark felt it broke the ice and helped him feel accepted into the family right from the start.  

Mark and Lisa felt part of the family both noting how he seemed like a Dad to them.  They appreciated his acceptance and generosity.  Lisa said he was always there for her and they’d often chat on facebook or over a glass of wine.  He would try to make her blush sometimes, but always failed.

Dad never gave a straight answer when you asked how he was saying ‘I’ll live until I die’.  And he did just that.  In his last week, he attended the meeting of the Sheffield Minister’s Housing Association that he has been part of for many years and who he was thankful to for housing him and Mum.  He took the funeral of a long-term friend and was preparing for the next meeting and meal for the Danum Society.  He continued to feed himself well with yellow label bargains from Tesco.  He chatted with friends and family on the phone and computer and made plans with Stuart and I for Christmas.  He really did live, properly live, until he died.  We take comfort from that. 

We take comfort too that the sudden nature of his death is what he would have wanted.  It’s felt like a hand grenade to us, but it is peace and joy to him.  And, as you told me when you broke the news to me Stuart, he is with Mum who he missed terribly.
And I am sure all of us will miss Dad hugely as his big personality leaves quite some gap.  For all we complained about his loudness and constant singing, we’d love to hear him bellow across the room right now.

He lived until he died, but he was never afraid of death.  The thanksgiving prayer he would want offered is this: Reverend Keith Simpson Lackenby, may you rest in peace, and rise in Glory reunited with Norma.  

We simply want to say good night Dad, we love you.  Say hi to Mum for us.