This site is a tribute to Colin MacIvor, who was born in Llangollen, Wrexham, North Wales on July 21, 1949. He is much loved and will always be remembered.

Eulogy by Sarah

Our Dad Colin (Leslie Colin MacIvor), I never did understand why his name wasn’t Les!!
He was born in Llangollen a small village in North Wales he was the second child of five children born to his parents George and Jean. He was the Middle of 3 Brothers, younger to Stewart and elder to Ian, He also had two younger sisters, Gina and Jill, who are sadly no longer with us. They lived in a small house with the River Dee running behind it. Surrounded by his mum’s family that were living close by.
Our Dad would tell us stories of how as a young child he would play along the river, fishing and throwing stones at the fish if he did not have a fishing rod that day. Stories of innocent children playing and having fun in a time gone by. I remember one story he told us, about a time at Christmas, he wanted to go to the local snooker hall, (As you do on Christmas day!) So, he took his brother Stewarts bike and rode it all the way through the heavy snow, only to find out that the snooker hall was CLOSED – It was Christmas day, AFTER ALL.
Dad’s first job was on a dairy farm, he tended to the cows and other farm duties and he lived with the farmer and his wife. One day he went back to his family home and was told that his whole family had moved to London. So, to London he headed at the age of 18. He arrived in Paddington and found a room with Bed & Breakfast in Cricklewood (North London) for £5.00 per a week. Where he would meet his wife, our mum, Barbara, in a youth club, run by the Church. (My Nan probably thought my mum would be safe in a church youth club). They fell in Love and courted for five years before they got married in 1973 In Lambeth


Dad and Mum had their 1st child, my sister Amanda in 1976 and then a couple of years later in 1978 they had me. We all lived in a two bedroomed flat in Kennington until we moved to the house on Clensham Lane in Sutton, in 1979. Mum and Dad both loved country and western music, so our home was always filled with the likes of Don Williams, Burl Ives, Slim Whitman and many other country singers, that's where me and my sisters' love for the music started.
During the years while living at Clensham Lane Dad, his brothers Stewarts and Ian, and our grandad, had a boat and use to go sea fishing, there were many arguments and lots of fun. He also had many nights out with his brother Ian, going night fishing! One time I went with them, it was so cold, my dear Dad bless him gave me everything he was wearing apart from his T-shirt, Jeans and Boots, Thats what Dad's should do afterall... at least I was warm.
Dad started working as a labourer, picking up the skills that he would use in later life while so often helping out friends and family with building and fixing things for them. He soon had a trade as a plasterer – which he was brilliant at, and prided himself on his work. He could also turn his hand to many other things.
One of the first things he did at Clensham Lane, was to build a massive swing out of scaffolding poles for us to play on! It was way too big at the time, but we both grew to love it and the other children in the street loved it too.
We made lots of friends in the street , they would all come round our house to play, because dad was so much fun! We could get up to mischief and not get in any trouble. He would take us for rides on his motorbike, let us steer the car up the street and most frightening... tow us up the road on our bikes with his work van!! We would all grab a bit of the van and he would drive off. I remember a time he had a lorry with a crane on it, he put me in a barrel, hooked it to the crane and lifted it all the way up! – looking back now it was very dangerous,... but he was my dad and I trusted him, and anyway it was fun. That's what he was all about mischief and fun!
He had many nieces and nephews from both sides of the family, all of whom I am sure have many fun and happy memories of time they spent with our dad. One of his favourite tricks that he loved, was to throw the little ones, throwing them as high as he could and then catching them – all while their parents almost had heart failure.
He would help the neighbours and in-laws out with all sorts of plastering and various building projects. He built 4 extensions just on people's houses in our street! He was just very helpful and very rarely charged for his work. He was a nice guy and he had time for everyone.
One day we came home from school and mum and dad had bought us a dog, a little white Jack Russel We called her Gizmo, but Gizmo loved Dad and Dad loved Gizmo, she followed him everywhere, it was his new best friend, even though he said he bought her for us. He would take her everywhere and she would happily follow. She followed him up ladders, to the toilet and one time she chased after his motor bike after he left for work, he had to stop and pick her up and drive her back. He took her to work in his van one day letting her lean out of the open window because he was nice like that, she decided to jump, right on the junction at Clapham Common during the rush hour, causing absolute mayhem for 10 minutes until he was able to capture her!
At the weekend he use to take me and my sister for walks to Epsom Forest spending hours exploring the woods and playing hide and seek. He hid up a tree once watching me in a state of panic for at least 10 minutes, before I heard him laughing in the tree. Sometimes we would bring our friends from the street along too, We would all have so much fun!
When I was bored, we would go to his shed and make things out of wood, I think he enjoyed it more than me, he put his heart and soul into making me all sorts, catapults, wooden guns, bow and arrows, cricket bats. The kids in the street use to love a game of cricket in our garden, they all loved him. 
I remember spending evenings watching Last of the Summer Wine and Westerns with him, then afterwards playing cowboys and indians!He let me eat cold beans out the can, with a spoon, like a cowboy, even peeling the label off to make it more rustic!
As I got older, he taught me how to play tennis. I never could beat him . You would have thought he would have let me win one game, same with snooker, taught me how to play, but never let me win. He taught me so much.
He taught me how to use a saw, how to hold a hammer, how to drill, all before the age of 16.  Skills I am pretty sure other 16 years old girls did not possess, I am glad he did though they come in handy now.
Then came the driving lessons, we tried them, but they did not work. The only thing I learnt from them was ROAD RAGE - I'll leave that there......
He bought me my first car. We had the choice of either having an 18th birthday party or a car. Amanda already had a party so I chose a car. My car was waiting ready to pass my test. He actually bought me most of my cars, he was so generous.
There were many a night I came home a bit drunk, I would roll in with friends, mum and dad would be sitting at the kitchen table. I would play the guitar and dad would join in playing along on the spoons or harmonica. I would tell them in my drunken state what I thought life was all about, he would encourage me and enjoyed my drunkenness, laughing and playing along.
Mum and Dad parted ways, and Amanda moved to Newcastle. Clensham Lane was no longer a family home. Dad was now my house mate; we had some fun times there then still, BBQ’s with my friends, morespoon playing and I am sure I remember a darts board.
 At one of the BBQ’s dad made a pan of curry for us all, brought it out with some bread, went back to get the butter, when he came back it was all gone. He could not believe it; my friends loved his curries!
The time came to sell the house and dad moved to Newcastle, he bought a house in Howdon where he met good friends John and Denise, who I know have been a great help to my Dad. He has said on many occasions how lost he would have been without John, knowing all that he knows!
In 2014 Amanda had the best present Dad could ever have Eliza Jean – she gave him 6 ½ years of total pleasure, he had a new lease in life, and he was able to relive the mischief and fun all over again.  She was the sunshine in his life and he enjoyed every minute with her, his Bumpy as he would call her.  Thankfully they got to spend a lot of time together over the last 6 years, as dad was an excellent and ever willing baby sitter. (We won't mention the time when eliza was 2, that he was 'resting his eyes' on the sofa and she wandered off through the front gate with our young pup in tow towards a main road!) I know eliza has made some very special memories with her grandad bike and will miss him dealry, as will we all.

Sadly 2 ½ years ago Dad got ill with lung cancer, he had an operation and like a trooper he recovered, but it returned to his brain, and sadly this time it could not be beat, after a short illness his fight was up and he is now at peace.
SLEEP TIGHT DAD, IT’S NOT GOODBYE, IT’S SEE YOU LATER

Miss me, but let me go - read by Amanda

When I come to the end of the road,
And the sun has set for me,
I want no tears in a gloom filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little, but not for much,
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that once we shared
Miss me, but let me go. 
This is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone.
It's all part of the perfect plan
A step on the road to home. 
When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know.
Laugh at all the things we used to do
Miss me, but let me go.

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral - read by Lizzy

You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family and friends about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died.

 You want the physicist to remind your sobbing Brothers about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed.

You want your Daughters to know that all your energy, every vibration, every BTU of heat, every wave of every particle that was their beloved father remains with them in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping grandaughter that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you'd hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted Children there in the pew and tell them, that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children themselves, their ways forever changed by you.

And as your closest people in your life rock in the arms of each other, may the physicist let them know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are their eyes, that those photons created within them, are constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And you'll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they'll be comforted to know your energy's still around.
 According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you are just less orderly