My sister Lucy and I are remarkably lucky to have had two of the best parents one could ever hope for. Our mother Alison sadly died in 1992, and our father Mike has now joined her. I have written down a few random happy memories that have occurred to me recently. I will have many more over the next months and years, and I hope you do to. Dad watched almost every football and rugby match that I ever played. I have a vivid mental picture of him on the touch line, standing in the rain, in his wellingtons, under an umbrella, smoking, and occasionally shouting tactical advice like ‘RUN!’ I have a stack of letters that he wrote to me every week for the whole six months when I was on my gap year in Africa. This is typical of the dedication and affection he showed to both me and Lucy. He really enjoyed his work as an engineer, and was still occasionally working up until a few months ago. I remember a day I spent on a building site with dad many years ago when he was supervising the digging of trial pits. I have such fond memories of watching him genuinely loving the work, contributing, and doing his bit. His engineering background extended into everyday matters. He would always plan a meal under three simple headings, as if it was part of equation: A meal = protein + carbohydrate + roughage He had a passion for cooking, and it would be true to say there were many hits and some misses: the Portuguese fisherman's stew was a much repeated success. Sarah’s first meal at Kensington Place was not. Dad served a combination of clementines, olives, and prawns in Aspic jelly.... It really was worse than it sounds. For a man who lived very frugally, he made an exception for kitchen gadgets. He was the world’s number one fan of the George Foreman lean, mean, grilling machine. He was always generous charities and supported various causes including: the Gurkha Welfare Trust, the air ambulance, Marie Curie, and of course, the Campaign for Real Ale. He had a very healthy ability to laugh at himself. I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded me telling you that there was column in his Christmas card list, containing the names of various friends, which was entitled ‘Not sent due to laziness.’ He was a creature of habit: he always carried a pen and paper, he read the Telegraph everyday, he ate a good breakfast each morning and encouraged us to do the same, warning that if we didn’t we’d “feel all floppy later”. He had brilliant recall of family stories, and a real passion for family history, who his ancestors were and what they got up to. This was really important to him. He was an optimist. He saw the best in people. He was thankful for what he had. He just got on with life, and really enjoyed it. If it wasn’t broken, it didn’t get fixed.... and even if it was broken, it still often didn’t get fixed! Only a few months ago he and I visited this church to put flowers on mum’s grave. During the drive here, he was so taken with the amazing autumn colours and the beauty of the day, and I could see that he was really truly appreciating that moment for what it was. Dad was above all quietly full of love: for me, for Lucy, and for our mother Alison. He had an unchanging adoration for mum, which he didn't like to mention in public, but was always there, just under the surface - ever present. He was so genuinely concerned for how Lucy and I were, and what we were doing, that he tended to put our needs before his. This was typical of him, always selfless, always caring, and quietly loving.

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. Max Ehrmann, "Desiderata"

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Michael Boardman. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.