Pop in bed. Probably taken the time he locked himself out of his house, and jumped off his balcony trying to get to the back door. He’d done it many times before, he said. Yes, we replied, but not when you were 100 years old. His eldest son, John Graham (my Dad), holding on to the triangle thing. Me (Dad’s eldest son) with the white shirt, my son Paul on my lap. On the other side of the bed, my wife Monique and our two daughters, Sarah (the older) and Kate (the younger).