2018 Brian Panter obituary

The following is an extract from Brian's obituary printed in full in the life histories of Brian & Nell Panter :-

--- And a memory of the winter of 1962 when we'd just arrived in Princes Risborough, when Dad and I climbed the Whiteleaf Cross in two feet of snow. I've no idea why he led this expedition, apart from the sheer adventure and challenge of it.

And of course, the many, many hours spent together on horseback riding across hill and vale, through woods and field and looking after our horses in all weathers. I recognise now that my Mother and Rachel, being less horse obsessed, sacrificed other things to pay for the horses, and even then I was aware of heated discussions about money

The other aspect of his life which runs back before my earliest memories, is Dad as an artist. There were always some of his paintings - horses or ships - on the walls of our houses. He painted and sketched all his life, and sculpted models of horses, including commissions. He also built a detailed scale model of HMS Clematis on which he served during the war, and this is now gifted to the Merseyside Maritime Museum. Drawing remained the chief joy in his later years, he always carried a small sketch pad in his pocket. It was a way for him to connect with the world, often spending hours in public places sketching the people he saw. He was never happier than at Sally's art classes at Phoenix Studios in Towersey which he managed to attend up until his stroke last year, which cruelly took away his ability to wield a drawing tool or pen.

He was devastated by my mother's death in 1990, but not long afterwards he formed a relationship with Jeanette, in which he found great joy and comfort. Jeanette was an important person in helping him engage with his grandchildren, arranging outings and treats, and even after their romantic relationship had passed into companionship, she remained a close family friend until her death a few years ago.

In 2017 at the age of 93, he was asked to speak The Immortal Words at 11am on Remembrance Sunday in the library at Princes Risborough, where he spent many hours. I was visiting and helped him put on his medals and walk round the corner. There was a small group of friends there, some librarians and a few members of the public, and he spoke the words with resonance and great depth. 'They Shall not grow old as we who are left grow old' had a special significance to him. So many of his peers and the women he loved were dead, he was finding old age intolerable and knew he was approaching the end his life. I felt very proud of him. It was the last remembrance Sunday he spoke at. By the following year his stroke had taken away his power of speech and we'd lost access to his memories and the connection to the act of remembrance.

He loved all his grandchildren : Rory, Holly, Faye and Hamish, and he loved to hear them play music. On that theme of remembrance, we ask my son, Rory, to play The Last Post for his Grandad