On the 8th June 2018 we said goodbye to Gaz at St Francis' Catholic Church in Nalisea. We remembered, honoured and celebrated his amazing life. For some reason Gaz and I had spoken about his funeral and his wishes for when he died. I'm so grateful we did because I wanted to do my very best for him and honour him the best way I could. He wanted his bike helmet, jacket and boots on his coffin, he wanted music that meant something from his life and that wasn't "doom and gloom" (his words) but most importantly he said he would love to have motorbikes lead the funeral procession. We had seen one just months before Gaz died in Nailsea and he'd said passionately..... "I'd love that at my funeral". 

I asked Gaz's close friend from work, Himanshu (or Heman as we know him as) if he could arrange some bikes to lead Gaz on his final ride. Heman did a brilliant job gathering together bikers and co-ordinating the group to lead the procession. Gaz would truly have been proud of him and honoured to have had so many bikes lead him through Nailsea to the church and later onto the crematorium. Among the bikers were volunteer Blood bikers who did an amazing job stopping traffic and ensuring the procession moved without breaking up. Gaz would have been blown away that he had blood bikers as part of his procession. He was so close to volunteering as a blood biker himself and was so excited about it. 

Our family stood at the end of our drive and we watched the procession come down our street. I will never forget seeing all the bikers and feeling an overwhelming feeling of relief and pride that we were able to give Gaz what he wanted. We showed him we valued his passion and we understood that biking was a part of him, in his blood, made him tick and live life the way he wanted and to its fullest. 

When the hearse arrived it backed into our drive and up to Gaz's precious garage where he spent so much time tinkering with his bikes (3.... at one point 4!), blasting music, watching movies on his projector screen and at one point even sleeping in there....in the middle of winter! We gave him one last look at his garage and we blasted George Ezra's 'Paradise' which he loved and was the last song he played in there. The boys and I stood at the back of the hearse and danced. It was a beautiful moment. 

The boys and I had spent time with Gaz at the funeral directors in the weeks before his funeral. We blasted music and together put stickers on Gaz's coffin showing the names he was known by.....Daddy, Gazza and Gazzanator 3000 which was the name he gave himself at work, originating from his Edinburgh to Bristol cycle ride for charity in 2011. The boys kept saying "Dad's fussy so we have to get them straight"..... they know their dad well. I was very proud of them. In the coffin we placed a motorbike adventure magazine, a What HiFi magazine, a map of Spain (Gaz would study maps, any map, for hours - he loved them), a family photo and letters from each of us. He wore a bike t-shirt and jeans - just something simple which he would have been pleased with. On his shirt we attached a motorbike pin and the boys wore matching pins at the funeral, linking them to their Dad.

Roxette's 'Joyride' played Gaz into the church. Roxette was the first concert he ever went to when he was 16. He bought a t-shirt at the concert which is still in pristine condition. He had bought the Roxette CD the day I met him in Australia and was so excited when he showed me - I was wondering why a 26 year old was buying a Roxette CD's in the year 2000?!?! We played Cat Stevens 'If you want to Sing Out, Sing Out' during the reflection. The song was featured in one of the obscure movies Gaz's best mate Neil introduced us to, we played and sang to it often (see YouTube video in Gallery) but to me the words reflected how Gaz lived his life so it was perfect. When they carried Gaz from the church we played 'Get Rhythm' by Johnny Cash. Gaz and I both loved Johnny Cash but again the words had meaning. When Gaz was stressed or down he would blast his music and I wanted to pass this on to everyone..... when you get the blues, blast your music as Gaz would and 'Get Rhythm'. 

Garry's cousin Ben Meadows, his close friend from work and fellow biker Simon Jarvis and I each spoke at the funeral. I attach the link here to my eulogy which was pre-recorded (I could not have spoken on the day and am so grateful to Ben and Simon for finding the strength). Below are their eulogies: 

BEN MEADOWS:

I’m going to say a few words about the time when Garry and I were children.

I don’t have siblings – so, growing up, Garry, Paul and Peter had the dubious honour of being, in many respects, the brothers that I didn’t have.

Garry was born on 1st April 1974 which, according to google, I’ve learnt this week made him precisely 2 years, 5 months and 7 days older than me.

Now this may seem a very a trivial detail to mention, but I think we can agree that older boys sometimes do not always appreciate geeky younger kids trailing along behind them.

But, as you know, Garry was always a kind soul and so that was never his way.

There are very few people who I’ve known who were as easy to spend time with as Garry. Chatting with Garry was always a pleasure. In the last few weeks I have thought back to all the times we hung out together as kids, and I can’t remember a single cross-word or falling out. Like all young boys, we must have chatted about nothing of great importance for literally hours – and my overriding memory is that it was always effortless and always just really lovely.

Garry had a great gift of making it very easy to be in his company – just because of the way he was, and his manner…which seemed so easy-going and considerate and, in many ways, so thoughtful and quite gentle.

I remember the many holidays we went on as boys to Centre Parcs. Each day would tend to follow a predictable pattern: set loose by our parents at the crack of dawn we’d head straight for the water park, where we would spend the next umpteen hours throwing ourselves repeatedly down the water slides, or swaying with the flow through the rapids for the 200th time - until, eventually, we would emerge from the water like small prunes and go off looking to be fed.

There was a time when visiting Garry in Colchester involved marvelling at his beloved Technics stereo. That he owned such an awesome sound system and speakers, when all I can remember owning was a chunky bright red cassette deck from Woolworths, earned Garry some serious cool points. And if he was every annoyed at me prodding away at his prize possession, he never let on.

With all due respects to my parents, wonderful as they are, playing loud music was not particularly tolerated in our house. So watching Garry’s little grin as he’d lean over and turn up the volume dial to wall-shaking levels so he could blast out albums such as Def Leppard’s “Adrenalize”, or his well-worn Ministry of Sound compilations….well, that really was pretty thrilling.

To Ann, and the residents of Beaver Close, I can only apologise if we ever egged him on…but then I think turning up the volume on stereos and TVs just runs in Scutcher family.

I have been trying to recall if Garry and I ever got in to any scrapes, but in truth all the perilous outdoor escapades: the rope swinging…the scary collection of hunting knives or Black-Widow Catapults…that was all Paul’s territory. Instead, when Garry got his first home computer that was pretty much me hooked – he and I would happily spend hours, like a pair of hermits, playing computer games together. I’m sure our parents probably wished the two of us would just go outside and get some fresh air…but at least they knew where we were.

Garry’s love for motorbikes, you won’t be surprised to know, started young. Auntie Anne had her own little Suzuki Love, so she could hardly hold Garry back when wanted his first Kawasaki. Garry always spoke a lot about their family trips to Snetterton; I can imagine trying to do family things with two teenage sons was probably quite hard, but those trips were a big hit - the roar and the smell of bikes, along with Anne’s huge picnics, meant those days were not forgotten.

And then Garry eventually went to university. This was big deal, as he was the first in our family to do so. But even though he was growing up and settling in to his student life there, meeting new friends and having a whole lot of new experiences Garry would still sometimes come and visit us in Royston and keep in touch. Anne remembers that he was very hard working - coming home from Luton most weekends because he had kept his nightshift job at Sainsbury’s and used his well-loved Kawasaki for the journey to and from Luton.

And little did I realise, probably because now I was at the age where I was going off to university myself, that after he graduated Garry’s passion for travel had really taken hold – with the hours he spent in his bedroom, with the music blasting, looking at maps, reading books and researching the places he wanted to visit before he started a job and settled down. Garry’s plan was to go to Australia, get a ZZR and travel his way around the country.

But then, his great adventure there is really the next chapter…which is better told by Jo, so I will leave it there.

Thank you.

SIMON JARVIS:

Good morning ladies & gentlemen. For those that don't know me, my name is Simon Jarvis and I knew Garry as both a work colleague at Lloyds and a dear friend. I'm going to share some thoughts and feelings from those who knew Garry at work and from myself.

Firstly, I’d like to share with you some excerpts from the tributes Garry’s colleagues have written on his dedication page.

From Lee: “When I joined Lloyds 3 years ago, Garry …took me under his wing and ..spent time talking me through the job and the place. He made me feel welcome from the start and that was something I was always grateful for.”

“He was someone who no matter how busy he was, he would always make time to have a quick catch up and would keep up to date with everyone else’s interests. It always showed how much he cared for the people around him.”

From Andy: “I still can't believe that you won't walk through the door and to your desk with a cheeky grin on your face as you think of the funny tales you will tell us from your weekend, holiday or latest adventure”

“At work it was a real pleasure to work with him over the last 3 years, to watch him grow in the role he was doing and gaining genuine widespread respect and admiration from all he touched. His dedication to the job, the hours he put in and his drive for perfection were fantastic qualities.”

“We will miss Garry every day, a truly lovely man to have had the pleasure of knowing. He made our lives richer and his loss leaves a big hole in our team and our lives.”

From Dave: “A humble yet great character, an inspiration to all us bikers, a true friend and absolute gent, who leaves a huge hole in our hearts.”

From Anne: “Garry was one in a million, a legend.”

“He was one of the most genuine, caring, honest people I have ever met.”

From Michelle: “I miss you so much and can't accept you are no longer with us.”

From Kieran: “I'm sad that we'll never get to ride together again, but grateful to have met such a funny, optimistic guy.”

From Phil: “Garry gained huge respect from colleagues for his professionalism and dedication whilst somehow always managing to make time to help other people or to have a friendly catch up. He would always take an interest in what people were up to …and would always make the effort to come over and ask about them. …he just simply cared about the people around him.”

From a work perspective I saw Garry as incredibly hard-working and diligent. He would think nothing of getting to work at 7am and staying until 9pm if that's what was needed. His unfailing commitment to his work was born out of his deep desire to do things right and not let anyone down. His desk was in clear view of mine and I remember being struck by how much of his day was spent engaging with others - it seemed he was always either talking to someone else in the team or he had his phone headset on and he retained an unrelenting sense of focus.

Here’s a flavour of the funny stories people have written about Garry:

• He bought a camel ride on holiday when he went into the shop to buy a rug!
• At a Turkish barbers, he sat petrified in the chair, not daring to move an inch as flaming towels headed towards his ears, scissors cutting at 100 mph and razors towards his sideburns.
• A quote from Greg: “In a team building exercise we spent the afternoon making each other laugh, it felt like we were the ne'er-do-wells at the back of the classroom. During the role play exercise he was trying to do an impression of Jimmy Saville…”

This story I’m quoting from Garry’s own words:

“I had a temp job in Melbourne where I had to pilot a boat down the ..river…and dock on a small island. With very little training I managed to crash the boat into a bridge and destroyed most of the roof. The tourists walking along the river bank found it very funny. I stuck to office work after that.”

Turning to my friendship with Garry, we first met soon after he joined Lloyds in 2010 when we had an immediate connection thanks to our shared passion for motorcycles. The following year we were both involved in a big work charity event - I witnessed his gritty determination cycling from Edinburgh to Bristol. Some of my most enduring memories of Garry are from the two motorcycle distance challenges we completed together for Children in Need, the tougher of the two being a ride of 1000 miles in 24 hours to Inverness and back. I can’t over estimate just how strong his passion for riding motorcycles was and, in particular his love for riding distances. After our Inverness ride he wanted an even tougher challenge, so he rode from Calais to Monaco and back, 1500 miles in 24 hours. We shared a fantastic motorcycling holiday to southern France. Garry was an easy room mate and great company. I smile when I think of the fun times we shared together on that trip.

It's hard to put in to words the sense of loss I now feel. Garry was such an important presence in my life. We shared happy times riding, happy times away from home, happy times on our frequent lunch time 'catch ups' as we called them and happy times just on brief chats at our desks or on the way to the coffee area. Losing those things leaves a gap in my life. It sounds so cliché to say he had a positive outlook on life, but he really, really did. He was a romantic idealist, always dreaming of the next big bike trip, the next family holiday and I loved that about him.

Finally, I couldn’t talk about Garry without mentioning his love of McDonalds and particularly McDonalds breakfasts. He once received a parking ticket at McDonalds because he’d been there so long. Jo’s told me how they would take Will and Adam to a motorway service area on a Sunday morning- for McDonalds breakfast. Garry & I visited McDonalds together in Edinburgh, Inverness, south Wales and France. In Edinburgh, he was so hungry he ate two breakfasts. When Garry planned his 1500 mile ride last year, he made sure his route included a McDonalds breakfast in Monaco! Garry, Jo has asked me to give you a McDonalds breakfast. Rest in peace my friend.

CREMATORIUM

Gaz's family attended a private committal at South Bristol crematorium. We played Bruce Springsteen's 'Waiting on A Sunny Day'. Gaz loved 'The Boss' and used to sing many of his songs within his helmet while riding. As we each said our goodbyes at the coffin we played George Ezra's 'Shotgun'. George was Gaz's latest love in music. The words to Shotgun suit him - enough of mundane life, I'd rather be on my bike, on an adventure, you'll find me up a mountain. I'd like to think going forward that Gaz is riding shotgun (a spiritual passenger) in our life, looking over us as we navigate our way through. The boys and close family placed orange gerberas on Gaz's coffin, orange being his favourite colour - orange for KTM of course! I placed two roses from our garden on his coffin and am grateful for this decision. Now when I see the roses in the garden I think of Gaz.

We then gathered with friends at Woodspring Golf Club to remember stories of Gaz and to look through photos from his life. I'd prepared boards of photos, almost like a gallery! There were just SO MANY photos to choose from, it was difficult to decide which were in and out. It was therapeutic for me to go through them and I was in awe of how much Gaz had lived, all the adventures he'd been on and how much time he'd given to people and to charity.

I have added some pictures, videos and the music from the day to the gallery. I think Gaz would have been happy with his farewell. I thank everyone who helped me to make it perfect and also thank you to all who came and shared a story, a laugh and a tear. 

Ride free my darling husband.