13/06/2026
Yesterday, we had the honour of hosting the celebration of your life. And as you’d have expected, the incredible Julie Stanway provided the most wonderful, personable service. Just as you had asked her to in jest all those months ago. Of course, your wonderful Bev and your Brooklyn, did you so very proud- on what must have been up there with the toughest day of their lives.
By total surprise, at Richard’s service, a poem written by Lois as a gift for Bev in Richard’s passing was read out at his funeral. It wasn’t written for public reading originally, but it seems it has been enjoyed by many. We are going to leave it here, so anyone who didn’t get to hear it can appreciate it. We’ve been told by many, for those of you who didn’t know the gentle giant Richard Cope, this was who he was in a nutshell. Our hearts are broken Copey, until we meet again ❤️
There isn’t a day that passes by where we won’t miss your jokes,
You not being here to make us smile, all feels like a hoax.
To never pour you a Guinness, and never make you another cob,
It all feels like the grim reaper has knocked too soon- he’s been on the rob.
We put our positive mindset in gear, and tried to ignore every ounce of fear
For you were a fighter, a gentleman true, and how does the world keep turning without the warmth of you?
You always made us laugh, even when we didn’t feel like it,
And made more rude jokes than even you would care to admit.
You always found a job to do, something that you could fix.
Popping going to the shop to bring back a Mars bar or a twix.
You worked hard, as ever, even when you didn’t need to,
And thinking of others, before yourself was just second nature for you.
And then there’s your beloved wife, you would do anything for,
Pop to get her car so she didn’t get soaked leaving the door.
And of course your fur son, your little Brooklyn boy,
A bond like no other, that brought us all great amounts of joy.
At only 61 your life changed over night, and we feel so truly robbed of that, we cannot put it right.
The chair where you sat is cold, and the atmosphere has changed,
The Beer Bank without you, feels nothing short of strange.
This room is full of love for you, and the barrels are full of beer,
They say that those we love aren’t truly gone, but we wish you were right here.
Until we meet again, we will walk this lonely road, and when your wife returns to your arms -she will finally be back home.
Tonight and every night Rich, we will drink for you,
The man, the myth, the legend that only your name will ever live up to.
