The obituary notice of James William (Jimmy) SLOAN

He could whistle louder than anyone I know.
He absolutely adored his grandkids. When I asked our children what they would always remember about granddad and all three said his infectious smile and his bone crushing hugs which were usually followed by a heavy slap on the back as he told you he loved you. One of his most impressive skills was that he could grab a big handful of change and from just the weight could tell you how much there was in his hand. He could do it repeatedly and very impressive it was too.
He was grateful for what he had in his life.
He liked, no he loved beer. He could really drink. Which was important to him and men of his generation. It was his anti-depressant I think. The world didn’t seem such a hard place to be after a few pints. He knew how to have a good time. His rhythmic clapping, foot stamping and whistling at functions, weddings or shows was legendary. He was humble.He was not a quitter and he wouldn’t let you quit either. He was a fighter. He should have died years ago from his fall, illness, dementia and other concerns, but he would not give up the fight, he wanted to live. He wasn’t just a fighter though, he was a survivor, he always found a way and he made his own luck and he was never a victim. He served his family and for that I am grateful. He was not born a Catholic, that came to him in later life when he got married, but he was fully engaged in church life and was a better Catholic than many I know. He was optimistic in the face of adversity. He was a wonderful Granddad. The kids adore him. All of them.
He was a good brother, good nephew, good uncle.
He was an amazing husband and father.
He never asked for anything. Even if you begged him to tell you what he wanted. He still had all of his own hair! Well most of it, and all his own teeth…..so there’s hope for us yet! I have so many wonderful memories of the man I love and admire more than any other. My dad Jimmy Sloan. We love you. Your son, Greg.

He had a talent for learning and educating himself, I never saw him read a manual or pick up the assembly instructions, he just seemed to know how things were done and did it. Whether it was roof and chimney repairs, decorating, plastering, whatever it was he could do it.
He was patient - especially when it came to children, he would take us all to the park and play football, walk for miles, play board games. We loved Sunday because that’s when we had time with him.
He was a good dancer. He could cut a rug and you don't have to ask him twice to dance.
He loved to sing and I used to love to listen to him. He loved all the good guys, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet and the rest. We gained our love of music from him.
He loved to eat - EVERYTHING. I am pretty sure I got this from him. Being a big family there were separate sittings for tea, except on a Sunday! We would all sit down to a roast beef or chicken dinner and all the veggies and yorkshire puddings. When the plate landed you got stuck in. It was a competitive environment. Well my wife wasn’t from a big family and she liked to save her favourite items like roast potatoes and yorkshire pudding to last. It was one typical Sunday afternoon and my wife, girlfriend as she was at the time, was sat eating her dinner with the rest of us, she was miles away and her guard was down. Her roast potatoes and yorkshire pudding had been recklessly left unattended on the far edge of the plate, Jimmy saw them and with a single movement, three stabs of the fork and they were gone. My wife looked up, visibly shocked at what had just occurred, Jimmy looked back across the table and said “I thought you weren’t eating them”. And that was that. A hard but important lesson learnt by all, especially my wife. He enjoyed sports of every kind. He played snooker, pool and darts. He could, however, fall asleep in front of any and every sport. He would be snoring away and as soon as you turned it over, he would call out, “I was watching that”.

My dad James Sloan, better known to all who knew him as Jimmy.
Father in law to my wife Michaela, grandfather to our children, Alexander, Louise and Grace and great grandfather to the two babies of our family. He was honest and loyal.
He was extremely clever but not in the traditional sense. He was very, very FUNNY! He was supportive, always! He was hard-working... too hard-working. I have never knew my Dad to sit down. He was reliable. You could count on my Dad for anything. He was generous. Too generous. Especially at the bar, but if he was out for a meal I was paying for, he always chose the most expensive steak or lobster dish on the menu. His generosity extended to others and the greater good and this was demonstrated when he answered the request from the parish of Mount Carmel for donations to repair the organ in this church. Dad’s considerable donation allowed for it to be completed and his funeral was his first time in church when it has been played. Let's hope he could hear it over the trumpets in heaven's bar.
He was strict. And while I used to strongly dislike this trait I have come to appreciate how it helped shape my life. When I was a teenager I would ask him if I could go to my mates house, he would always ask what time I was coming home and then when I answered, knock half an hour off, we would then play this game whereby every time I tried to defend my reasons, he would deduct another half an hour. Sometimes I had to be back home before I had even left the house. He was dedicated. He must have been, he had seven children! He was a good listener. He would listen and let you speak and even if he didn’t have the answers, he would somehow still be able to reassure you. He was curious. I suppose that came from being a window cleaner, looking in through the windows of the lives of everybody in the district once a fortnight.