Life on the small side

My Dad Ted wasn't very tall, just five foot six in his younger days, and even shorter as he lived on into his eighties.
He took a job with the local council on leaving school, then when war came he volunteered for the RAF, becoming a ground-based wireless operator. He met my Mum, who was a WAAF, and married her less than a month after his twenty-first birthday.
After the war he returned to his job in the council's finance department, staying there until he took early retirement to care for Mum, who had been diagnosed with MS in her forties.
Modest and self-deprecating, seeing the humour in everything, he endeared himself to everyone who knew him. He died three years ago today. It doesn't get any easier.
Here's a little rose for a man with a big heart.