It's an honour to be standing here as Wally's son, and equally as sad that there will never be enough time for goodbyes, or to say all of the things I would like to have said. Not just because there wasn't time, but partly because you could never get a word in edgewise with my dad around.

For those of you that knew Wally well, you would know that he had a daft sense of humour, loved sarcasm and disputed that it wasn't the lowest form of wit, and had a way with the ladies (albeit not always reciprocated). He enjoyed life to the full, particularly the last 15 years.

As a lad, I have mixed memories of my dad, who became absent as a fulltime father when I was around 11 years old. He made sure regular weekend visits continued and that where possible he was still a dad to my brother Tony and I. One story he loved to retell {over and over, despite being told everyone had already heard it) was one evening Tony and I were sat near our gas fire being told a story by dad. After normal giggling and messing about, we were told abruptly to sit still and not say another word or the story would not continue.

After a few minutes, I couldn't bear it any longer and politely tried to get his attention, only to be shut down and the story continued. With more urgency I tried again to get his attention , and he begrudgingly and angrily replied with a 'WHAT?!' scared to interrupt my dad, I quietly told him I was burning and asked if could I move. Even then I couldn't get a word in despite cooking slowly in front of the fire.

Tony and I did share some great memories. The most memorable for Tony I suspect was the day the lake froze at Wimbledon Common. Tony, my dad and I walked across the lake as we watched people skating, but we got too close to the reeds where the ice was weaker. Dad told us to walk apart from each other, which Tony did, but being younger I ran towards my dad, absolutely terrified and both dad and I went through the ice. Clearly a scary moment and we were soon rescued and I cried all the way home. Tony on the other hand was screaming with laughter all the way home and was still holding his stomach, rolling around laughing, when we recounted the story to our mum.

Dad did love to flirt but when we told him he was a terrible flirt he almost took it as a compliment, not realising he was really terrible at it! Once in a Italian restaurant in Plymouth, he offered the expected gratuity at the end of the evening and cupped the waitresses hand in his as he asked in all sincerity where in Italy she was from as she had a lovely Italian accent. Not only was her accent clearly not Italian, he didn't know anywhere in Italy, so the reply would have fallen on deaf ears. Regardless, her response was very abrupt and single worded - "Poland". She took the tip and walked away whilst we laughed at my dad's attempt to flirt, yet again.

This was my dad. we expected nothing more, nothing less and loved him dearly for his ways. He was who he was and happy being himself.

When I met my wife Kelly, back in 2000, he was living in the 'Twin Towers' as he called them, in Devonport. He cooked a mean roast the first time Kelly met him and immediately accepted her as his daughter in law to be. We gave dad a beautiful grand-daughter, Morgan, in 2003 and we married in 2005, with Morgan as a bridesmaid. Having dad at our wedding and spending time with us, somehow changed our relationship with him. We became closer over the following years. My wife started calling him 'Pops' and he's always referred to himself as Pops or Grandpops in any correspondence with us. It was a lovely show of affection we all shared.

My wife loved him dearly, and my dad reciprocated his love, despite the fact she sat on his oxygen tube in the hospital just recently.

Aged 60, and having been unemployed for many years, he was told he had to retrain. Never being one to give up or sponge from the benefits system, he agreed to attend various courses. He then obtained a grant to help him start Wally's Dance Party, which became an overnight success. He had ten years of wonderful friendships, dancing and music, and he built a wonderful foundation on which his happiness was truly established. He loved to dance, he loved to watch people dance, he loved music throughout his life, and he loved to socialise.

I saw my dad try so many things in his life to find happiness, and he never gave up, having failed many times along the way. He would simply dust himself off and try again. As I watched my dad, who was talented at so many things, I saw someone who inspired me and gave me great courage. He taught me that we couldn't blame anyone for our failings and that we made our own destiny. I found a phrase that summed up my way of living as a result, "Aut Vincere Aut mori"  means either to conquer or to die. My dad conquered. He found his niche, he found a truly happy life and touched so many people in doing so.

He was so humble, and even when we told him a few days before he passed away, how remarkable he was, he genuinely had no idea that he brought a smile to those he met and helped so many people through his charity work.

I won't mourn my father through continued grief, although it is natural to be sad, but instead continue to honour him, make him proud and carry him in my heart for an eternity.

Before I close, Dad's sisters Rosemary asked me to say that he was the best brother he could be to her, and her final message was specific. Each Saturday, dad and my aunt Rosemary would chat on the phone for hours. At the end of each call they had their 'signature' sign off, which Rosemary will dearly miss, and as her way of saying a final goodbye Rosemary asked me to say, "Any road up Wally".

His granddaughter Phoebe, aged 7, said she wanted to say a small made up poem:

"My granddad was very funny, my granddad was great, he always was giggling, even when late.

We will always remember him for being funny".

Lottie, our 4 year old said she will miss him because he was funny and made her laugh.

Our eldest, Morgan says, "You were always making me smile and giggle, and I will never forget all of the happy memories we shared. I would like to say "thank you" for that'.

Kelly asked me to tell you dad, that she will do the Caribbean Calypso with you again.

My life, and many others, will be a little less bright without dad in our lives, but he will always live on in our hearts.

Until we meet again Dad, I love you with all of my heart. I'm incredibly proud of you and all that you are and will keep my promise and do the best I can to be the best father and husband I can be.