Dearest Hannah,

It is with a heavy heart that I respond to your news that your father, my old and trusted friend, Mac, passed away on 25th January.

I'm sure that if I were to meet him now beyond the Pearly Gates, he would give me one of his broad smiles and throaty laughs and say, " Well Ian, as you know from the many cracks (craics to the Irish) we shared together, I never dreamt that my shift would be so long - well 88 is a good innings for a Paddy or a Jock!  And the bonus for a long time Hong Konger is to go out on such a great number as 'baht baht', such a lucky number for the Chinese."

Indeed, Hannah, my enduring memories of Mac are the social times we had, your mum and dads' wedding day and the period when we worked for MTR building the Island Line and I picked up your Dad every morning and took him to Hong Kong Island.  That was in the early 1980's.  We had to drive to Kwun Tong and catch the vehicular ferry to North Point.  We had some great chats and debates whilst the car ferry ploughed it's way slowly across Victoria Harbour.  We used to put the world's ills to right, often with a very leftist sentiment.  And many's a beer we had together - happy but never drunk!

I will never forget the morning we were driving towards Kwun Tong Ferry Pier and I stopped at an amber set of traffic lights in Wai Yip Street but, unfortunately, a large bus behind us had decided to run the amber lights. Consequently, the bus hit as at a fair speed.  Luckily I saw the bus in my mirror and knew he wasn't going to stop.  As the bus hit us I took my foot of the brake to lessen the impact for Mac and me and the bus propelled us straight through the junction to the other side.  The pins in our seats broke as we rolled forward then back and as we both ended lying stretched out backwards the rear windshield was shattered into a thousand pieces and showered us with glass where we lay.  Mac turned to me and said " Are you alright, Ian?".  I was shocked but physically okay;  I replied " I'm okay Mac, are you alright?"  He replied in the affirmative and we both broke out in laughter - I guess to vent our emotions and nervous tension and recognize that we were both very lucky and had just exhibited why seat belts are essential.  Oh! And by the way the car was a right off and I got a brand new and better company car from the MTR.

I wrote to your Mum on 25th December and promised Assun that we would visit Ireland to see her and your Dad this year, after I retire from full-time working, but sadly my good intent came too late in time to see my old friend. However, Mac was a really great friend and we will never forget him and the part he played in our lives in Hong Kong.  You should feel immensely proud of him.

Our sincerest condolences; our thoughts are with you all.

Yours Aye,
IAN

Ian M. Thoms

Dear Dad

I am writing this to say thank you. You taught me so much in life; so much that has helped shape who I am today.

You taught me how to LIVE.

You loved your garden, being able to grow things. The vegetables you grew were always the most delicious; tomatoes so sweet you could eat them straight from the vine like apples. But it was your flowers that were your pride and joy, a riot of colour in our garden. Through your appreciation of these beautiful things I learned how to appreciate them too. You always encouraged my artistic side: my drawing, my painting, my photography, from the beginning to the very end. You also passed onto me your unyielding curiosity, your love of reading and staying up to date with the goings on in the world. You loved to know. And if you didn’t know you would ask. You never shied away from change and you constantly marvelled at the advancement of technology. You taught me how to open my eyes and see the beauty of the world, how to stay curious and always ask; to move with the times and how to read.

You taught me how to LAUGH.

Your life was so full of adventure and from every aspect of your life; England, Abu Dhabi, Hong Kong, Ireland you had a story to tell and these stories usually had a punch line or were filled with good humour. You loved to play practical jokes on your colleagues and yours were there jokes that either made you laugh or made you groan. You passed that onto me and whether it was because I was genuinely funny or because you were my dad – you always laughed at mine. You taught me that life is not to be taken too seriously, that joy, happiness and laughter are some of the greatest gifts to give and share.

You also taught me how to LOVE.

Like I said before if you didn’t know something you always asked, and that applied to us, your family. The choices Kiaran and I made were always encouraged, it was always our decision – and if you didn’t know why we made that choice – you asked us! Your viewpoint was always open and your opinion never forceful; if you didn’t agree you would let us know but you never forced us to change our minds. You followed us everywhere, from school to sport to dance. Your congratulations were always so sincere whenever we achieved. You taught us that some of the best things in life were free; pursuing our talents; seeing the beauty in the world; staying curious; sharing laughter with family and friends; and Hugs. Your hugs were always the biggest and the best. And it was always something you looked forward to the most when we came home: The simple but profound gift of a hug.

Thank you dad for all these wonderful things, without you I wouldn’t be here and without the things you taught me I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

You were there for my first breath and I was there for your last.

They say that everyone will always have their own version of events but ours will forever be intertwined.

I loved you so deeply. At first I thought you left a massive hole in my heart. But then I realised – it’s not a hole. It’s a special place just for you and over the next few days and weeks and months and years, I will fill it with memories, the lessons you taught me and with your love. And that is where you will stay forever.

Thank you Dad, I love you.

Hannah

xXx

For Daddy

During his travels Dad had gained a number of nicknames. Whether you knew him as Edward, Aidan, Mac, or Dad you knew that he had plenty of knowledge to share and many a story, especially if he had a brandy in his hand. I'd like to share with you some stories and memories of mine.

Dad was the greatest man I knew. He taught me many life skills that stand to this day, and help to shape the man I am. He taught me to drive a car, to drive a nail, and to drive the women in my life up the wall.

When we lived in England I remember him running across the road a grabbing a toddler that was sure to be hit by an oncoming car, and carrying them to safety. He also told me of the time in his childhood when he lifted a wooden horse cart off his brother who was being crushed. I used to think sure he must be a hero if he could do that, and I was always amazed at how strong he was that he could move such heavy objects, all with the use of a long plank of wood. It wasn't later until I understood the laws of levers that I realized he was only coding me about his super strength, but he was still my hero.

He loved DIY and always had a project on the go, something I loved to help him with. Even more impressive than the work he did was the fact he learned how to do this work with out making a mess as the boss would complain. The boss being Mam. He would often joke that Mam would make some foreman on a job site.

If you ask most people to describe my Dad you can guarantee they would talk of his love of reading. He once told me he read at least one book a week since he was 18, and I often knew him to even read 3-5 in one week. I did the math recently and at a minimum he has read 4,576 books. In fact he was reading right up until the point where he went to the hospital on New Year's Day. Most books he read he would say were like "Shit from China" - "far flung". But every once in a while he would read a good one, which meant it was definitely excellent, and a book I promised myself I would read.

My Dad was an amazing caring Father. I remember this one time in Dromin being sick with the flu. The house had this odd hallway that didn't fit, I looked to my side and there sitting in the hallway was my dad reading. He stayed with me all night, and I remember falling asleep as my Dad sang the song "two little boys". This song was always dear to Hannah and I as it is the song he would sing to us to soothe us, and will be played at the end of our service today.

In his last hours while I sat with Dad in the Lourdes hospital where he was born. I thought nobody, including himself could have imagined that a fella from Killaneer would travel the world, working in civil engineering, building bridges, roads, train tracks in England, U.A.E., Hong Kong, the Philippines then back to England and Ireland again. Not to mention the places he travelled. He build or owned homes in England, Hong Kong, the Philippines, Ireland, and turkey. I think it was very fitting for him to come full circle and have his last breathes be in the Lourdes where it all began, before returning home to the house he build here in Kilsaran.

I miss you Dad more than you can imagine. I know with time it will get easier. However my love for you will never diminish and our memories of you will fill our hearts until we meet again.

Please keep us safe as you look down on us with a book in your hand, and a brandy to warm your spirit.