Dear Paul.

Paul, on Monday of this week you messaged my Dad to say you’d become very poorly, very quickly and that you were trying to get home from the hospital, to receive palliative care in a little more comfort. At this moment in time, I’m not sure if you made it back in time or not. What I do know is that last night (Tuesday) Tom messaged my Dad to let him know you’d passed away peacefully with all of them around you.

On hearing of your deterioration on Monday, I’d wanted to make sure I wrote you a letter, before it was too late. I never got the chance. Here’s what it would have said;

Dear Paul,

Thank you, for being such a good friend to my Dad, I know your relationship meant an awful lot to him. More personally speaking, I want to thank you for the music. You may never know how much I appreciated the compilation CD’s you used to make for me, the sounds you introduced me to, they opened my eyes to a whole new world. It makes me smile to picture a 14 year old me, listening, on repeat, to Cigarettes & Whisky & Wild, Wild Women. I remember the time I came home from a party, you and dad were sat in the lounge, an empty bottle of whisky between you, guitars in hand, I sat down and played Fixin’ to Die and Oxford Town, you were bowled over and so, so, supportive. Or the time I came home from the pub, a little older now, and you and Dad were in the kitchen, that night I played Girl from the North Country, you teared up, said it was beautiful. Thank you, Paul, for the love and support, for the inspiration and education. Thank you.

Goodbye, Paul.

Love,

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