A little after 1 p.m. yesterday afternoon, I got the phone call from L’horte to say our Pop had passed away. The man who cradled me, held my hand down the aisle and rocked my newborn son in his arms, went peacefully in the place he loved the most with the woman he shared more than half a century with. His eldest grandson Louis close by and of course, his adored German Shepherds Chrissie and Gunner. Beloved husband, father, grandpop, step- grandpop, animal lover, passionate environmentalist and an engineering genius.
James Edward Collins was born and raised in Highbury, Islington. From his early ‘blitz boy’ years to travelling all over the world, family in tow, building vital structures in countries most wouldn’t touch, he loved being active. As kids, we led a charmed life from the jungles of Borneo to the Kenyan wilderness thanks to Mumo and Pop. It is a testament to both of them that the friends they made 50plus years ago still get together every year. He never pushed any of us into a career but was always there when we needed perspective and direction. I have always had a habit of turning left when everyone else went right. And he never failed to tell everyone how amazing his children and grandchildren were.
To say our Pop was opinionated would be an understatement. He was a fervent environmentalist long before it became newsworthy, L’horte’s solar panels and irrigation system were some of his proudest moments in rebuilding the old mill. The self-sufficiency seen in his grandchildren is thanks to his ‘on site’ education (whether they wanted it or not). And I think all of us know how to rewire an entire house by now. His legendary rants about eating beef (none of us touch the stuff), the state of his adored London (although he loved returning Norf for his 80th) and the demise of the English cricket team made for many a dinner debate although some of us did switch off part way through. Something we obviously learnt from him, he perfected the art of falling asleep mid way through a conversation.
Pop loved our Mumo. I don’t think I ever saw them argue big-time. He was fiercely protective of her and we were never allowed to swear or disrespect her in any way. Not that we ever would, she’s Mumo after all. He once told me that he had to ask her more than once to marry him but he was never going to give up until she did.
Pop and I bonded on one thing in particular, our love of dogs. Especially German Shepherds. Chrissie and Gunner were his constant companions as he took his daily walk around the property although the routine would never be complete with at least one shout of “Gunner, come here!”, followed by “What are you doing?!”. We just prayed that Gunner hadn’t taken another joggers pants off. . He loved Ming and Pong, the now-departed cats, I assume they will be waiting for a head scratch up there.
So Callum and I will fly to L’horte next week for the funeral on Friday. The French are swift on these things for which we are all grateful. Us kids and our kids will be there to hold Mumo’s hand and say goodbye to the man who held our hearts. I love you Pop. I know I should have said it more often but thank you. Thank you for always being there even if I wasn’t grateful at the time, for pulling me up when I was falling flat, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself, for showing me the straight and narrow when my path bent, for letting me make mistakes and showing me how to fix them and the 1986 New York Mets baseball season. I shall look out for you one evening swimming down the river…….
James Edward Collins September 1st 1938 – 30th November 2019.
Widow plus woofs 