Last night, England lost its “Living National Treasure” as he jokingly referred to himself—Hugh Lamb, Richard’s dad and my father-in-law. He was one of a kind—brilliant, witty, and wickedly funny. I loved his smile and the twinkle in his eyes when he told a joke. We had similar taste in music and sent song suggestions back and forth during our regular, trans-Atlantic phone chats. Less than two months ago, we were laughing as we sang the sound effects in the “Martian Hop.” Our one disagreement was whether eclairs should be filled with whipped cream or custard. Custard, of course! I can hear his protests from the other side.
He dedicated his latest book to me and I will treasure it always. I felt quite cherished by him—he called me the Angel of the Spirits when last we met and said I was the daughter he never had. That melted me. I will miss him so much. Funny how some people just connect in a special way even though they haven’t known each other long. That was us.
My husband has so many of his dad’s qualities, so Hugh will live on in his way. As will the dozens of anthologies of Victorian ghost stories he published over the past 45 years. Richard created a website for him recently that is a wonderful tribute to the man and his work: http://hughlamb.com/. Since Hugh was living in the Victorian era in many ways, Rich had to print out the pages of the website and mail them to him. He was quite pleased with the site and chuffed by the fans who took the time to reach out to him.
Farewell, Dad. I will carry you in my heart until we meet again. I love you.