I would like to thank so many people for attending this celebration of my son’s life.  Your presence here today tells me that he was held in high esteem by those who came into contact with him.  I am filled with pride at the delightful things that have been said here today. 

Many of you will know of the extensive treatment that Matthew went through in order to have one more year and he fought until the very end.

The struggle is over my boy.  Rest in Peace.  

My Boy – by Mat’s mum, read by Keith Stevens, Mat’s brother-in-law

Matthew was an affectionate, giggly little boy who always seemed to be wearing a hat of some sort and carrying a toy gun or a stick which he thought was a gun.

His laugh was infectious, I remember him and Ivan riding around on an old tricycle in our garden at Rudgwick, Ivan peddling, Matt sitting in the pannier on the back, the faster Ivan peddled the more Matt laughed.

 There were shopping trips to Guildford with Nan (my mum), all 3 children sitting in the back of the car.  Matt never asking Nan to buy him anything, but looking into her eyes with affection, she melted and he could have anything he wanted.

THAT POOR BOY was a phrase my mother used when he was at uni, he had spent all his allowance on booze and partying and only had a loaf of bread to live on for the week, so up went regular red cross parcels of money.

He achieved great things from the time he attended the Nautical school Indefatigable, then onto Colliers 6th Form College, and from there to Uni where he attained a BSc and onto Lancaster where he attained a Masters.  His career took him into the environmental & recycling industry.

He was a keen environmentalist, very interested in wildlife, sport, cricket, climbing, rugby, golf, skiing & he was an avid walker.  But the real passion in his life were his two lovely children, James & Amelie - my grandchildren.

Matthew endured physical pain and mental anguish during his last year, without complaint, and none of us can know what torment he went through.  For me, at least his suffering is over and there will never be a day that goes by when I will not think of my gentle, caring son Matthew.

Love you for ever Matt,

Mum

Sean Steere Tribute - Mat's friend since 6th Form College - Collyers, Horsham, West Sussex 

For my 40th birthday, my wife and friends gave me a photo album of key memories.  Matt features a lot – we’d been friends since 1986 – and durig our ‘A’ levels the group of Matt, Chris, Dave, Julie and I were nigh on inseparable.  

Matt was a constant friend.  More recently, when families and work took most of our time, we didn’t see each other every day, week or even year, but he was always there.  Weddings, funerals, stag do’s, Matt always made the effort, to be there and re-unite the gang.  We were incomplete without him.

I can’t believe that he’s gone.

In time, I hope that we can accept Matt’s passing, and realise that he will never completely leave us.

In that 40th birthday photo album, on the cover page, there’s a small inscription.  It reads “I woz ere, Matt”.  

Matt Purdie woz ere… and we are all richer for it.

Matt’s enthusiasm was infectious.  He taught me to play bar billiards, cribbage, and darts.  He took us caving and climbing.  (The climbing was undertaken rather nervously as Matt had no formal training, but knew a chap who was good with knots).  We played golf, skied, swam, ate, drunk and laughed.

Aged 17 Matt visited family in Australia.  He returned with a boomerang and a Kevin ‘Bloody’ Wilson tape.  Songs about a persistent cat and a forgetful santa made us giggle for hours.

Matt and I spent two months camping in the South of France doing a geological mapping project. It was typical of Matt that he ended up playing rugby for the local French team.  He made friends everywhere. 

Matt taught me to seek adventure.  He showed me the value of kindness, generosity and friendship.  

Matt Purdie woz ere.  He was here for far too short a time, but he didn’t waste a moment.

Matt Purdie woz ere. And we loved him.

On Wednesday 25th November, friends and family gathered at Worthing Crematorium and celebrated Mat's life.

I remember:

 You cutting off the bacon rind and us arguing over the custard skin

Playing Canasta with Nan, Glad and Perce

Us all counting Butterflies and you winning a prize

Making me watch Jaws and The Omen too and that really wasn’t wise

Pancake eating competitions and Christmas Avocaat Snowballs

Pinching Dad’s ski socks and putting a hole in them all

Attending Nautical School and you running your own Tuck Shop

Breaking your leg and taking a learner driver on the M23

You studied the Earth, mapping and drinking most of Southern France

Creator of drinking games a plenty, my favourite “the Flaming Drambiue”

And who could forget those snappy dance moves – the Row Boat Song

You climbed and you pot-holed and even when it went wrong

You were cool under pressure with Dad hanging off a cliff and swearing a song

And there were games of Bridge, played long into the night

You ran with the Bulls and threw tomatoes with speed

And you developed a taste for the finer things in life

As a blonde haired rogue in Hong Kong

Your stories of Macau should forever be untold

We swam in Cayman, surrounded by sharks

You gambled in Monte Carlo, Goodwood and Doncaster too

You recycled yourself and your companies through

You were the blue sky thinker, it really is true

Never so happy than with a cause,

There were Butterflies and Bluebells and Badgers of course

Your pals were always present, you loved them true

Your greatest adventure your cherubs numbering three

Your smile was endearing and your humour sublime

So I asked our Ivan to wait for his round, fat chance

So sharpen up that short game, and sort out that slice

We’ll join you in due course for that whiskey over ice