It’s difficult to cover a life of 96 years in five minutes, but I’ll give it my best.

Jan was a husband of 69 years to Roma (almost a Platinum anniversary), father to Mark, Louisa and me. Brother, uncle and cousin to many and Dziadek to his grandchildren, all of whom will miss him dearly. He was born in a part of Poland known as Kashubia in 1924. The second born of nine brothers and one sister.

He was raised in rural Poland which was a challenging upbringing, but this gave him resilience and strength of character in later life. He remembered fish (from the lakes), blueberries and mushrooms forming a large part of his diet growing up. Having survived a burst appendix in 1942 he was forcibly conscripted by the Wehrmacht. After being lucky to avoid the Russian front in 1943 he was active in France and then Italy.

At the beginning of 1944, somewhere outside Naples, he was liberated by the Americans and given the opportunity to join the Polish Free army, with whom he served in Italy for the remainder of the war.

Having been decorated with the Polish Cross of Valour, amongst other medals, he was discharged from the army in England in 1948 where he remained together with his brother Wladek. Their oldest brother, Alojzy returned home to be reunited with the family. Dad always thought he would go back to Poland after the Soviets had left. Instead, he met Roma with whom he raised a family and spent the rest of his life.

Unsurprisingly Poland became a biannual holiday destination for the Treders, starting in 1966 (where I remember watching some part of the one and only English World Cup win on my father’s shoulders). We would usually stay in Wejherowo with our Uncle Leon and Aunty Marysia. There were marriages to attend, funerals and later on a memorable 80th birthday trip for Dad.

Mark and I also took Dad back to Poland in 2014 for his last trip, to re-visit childhood memories with his youngest brother Jerzy. Together they would, without any shred of embarrassment, invite themselves into Paczewo homes telling people that they had lived in that house 80 or 90 years ago. Tea, coffee and vodka would always somehow appear. As well as being an entertaining trip for Mark and myself, as we followed in the tracks of the reminiscing brothers, it would also be the last time we saw Uncle Jerzy, whosadly died some months later.

Dad’s roots remained strong in his new country; he became an active member of the Polish community in Reading - involved in both the Polish Club and Church activities, even in his late eighties he was still singing in the church choir and manning the door at Polish Club Dances and New Year’s Eve parties.

For several years Dad would join my brother Mark on a Monday night visit to the Polish Club Bar, where Mark would work on the weekly accounts and Dad would provide excellent moral support from the other side of the bar. It was at this point in his life that he would develop deep friendships with Zenek, the bar manager, fellow socialite Lubek and Eddie, amongst others. Lubek’s widow, Ewa and her daughter Karolina remain close family friends, and have joined us today.

Everyone was devastated when, in 2008, the bar was shut permanently, for what can only be considered as ‘internal politics.’ The removal of this social gathering place for the community was something he, along with others, never fully recovered from.

Whilst he may have retired from his working life at the age of 65, Dad never downed tools. He always had something to do, a project to complete, or somewhere to go. This could be some renovation to the house, a shed to build, vegetables to grow or borders to weed; with mum always complaining that he dug up her plants for the greater good. It was not in his nature to slow down, even in his 90s, which often caused concern. One of these incidents was when Mark was away, and I was in Africa. I received a message from Sarah.

‘Your Dad’s on the roof!’

To which I replied, ‘which one’.

To which she replied, ‘ I don't know, let me ask your Mum’.

Roma, who was on the other line, was heard to shout ‘what are you doing?!’ to which Dad replied, ‘I’m on the roof clearing the leaves, stop bothering me!’.

He eventually climbed back down some hours later, after talking Sarah out of calling the fire brigade. Dad’s home brewing was legendary in the 70’s together with wine making. Fresh tomatoes, cheese with bread and Dad's Beer always went down well on a summer evening.

A good friend of ours, Wendy, remembers her vodka toasts with Dad, and his brother Wladek, at my wedding as well as at christenings. It never ended well. I always questioned in my mind whether Dad liked vodka, as, when I was about eight, I remember watching him and his brothers drinking shots during a daytime gathering in Poland. They all seemed to grimace as they sank the vodka. I asked my mother why they drank it if they didn't like it. She told me I would find out why when I was older. I can safely say that the only time in his life when he slowed down was 2020 when he began to falter. This culminated in a couple of falls in November which took their toll. We can take comfort in the fact that he was able to enjoy his life up to his last few weeks when his memory and body started to fail him.

Louisa came home early for Christmas and stayed. Fortunately, everyone was able to say goodbye before he took his final nap on Jan 12th. He passed away at home, which had been his long standing wish.

Mark and Geraldine have been incredible over the past few years. I know Dad appreciated having his family around him and Louisa caring for him in his final weeks. We should be raising a glass in his memory today but alas circumstances don’t allow this at the moment. When the time is right, we will have a proper send-off as he always intended us to.

Thank you for joining with us today to celebrate his life.

Dowidzenia Dad