Jamie was such a funny, kind and intelligent man. I will never forget the good times we shared with him, Sue, Lucy and Josh, our children grew up together in Brixham. Such good times, you will be missed, but not forgotten Jamie xxx

I'm absolutely gutted to hear of Jamie's passing. I hadn't heard from him for a few days, and when I checked Twitter to find the message posted on his timeline, I was just gobsmacked. I hadn't known him for much more than a year, and then through Twitter, until I mentioned a possible cancer diagnosis. He reached out immediately. He knew what I was dealing with both professionally and personally, and in that period of waiting for a diagnosis, he really did keep me sane. Not just with his advice, but also just with a phone call, or a text message, or of course, on Twitter. We got to chatting on the phone, and I felt like I was talking to a friend I'd known for decades, and we'd laugh from start to end. He told me stories of his travels, and through his unique outlook on life, the wisdom he'd picked up traveling the world, and just being a decent bloke, he truly gave me a new perspective on the world. I learned not to take myself, or the world, too seriously, and especially his advise while I was waiting for my own cancer diagnosis, "You can't play with cards you haven't been dealt, yet, so don't try. And neither of us have been given the black card, yet." I'll carry that wisdom and those words with me for the rest of my life, thanks to him. I had planned to be in Devon in two months, and we had talked about meeting for a pint in the Blue Anchor. I'll still get there, and when I do, I'll raise my pint to Jamie, who I consider to have been a damned good friend. To his family, I am so very deeply sorry for your loss. I hope that when you think on him, as time passes and takes some of the sting with it, his memory will bring you nothing but smiles. I feel he'd certainly like that. And to Bailey, the "Mad Spaniel", he should have ALL of the biscuits.

I only knew Jamie through Twitter, but his hilarious responses to my posts established a fun and cheeky online friendship. He had some incredibly insightful responses to some posts about politics or healthcare. He was incredibly generous and understanding in response to some posts where I was angry and less understanding. I would try to see things from his point of view, and since his passing, I have told myself that I need to be more like him. More generous and less combative with other posters online. He was always upbeat about his condition, even when it was dire. That’s why I cannot comprehend his passing. If anyone would outwit cancer, it would be Jamie. I wish I had spent more time getting to know him, but I am deeply appreciative of the conversations that we did have. I will save those messages and will learn from him. I will do my best to be more fun and enjoy life to the fullest. That’s what Jamie did. He left an incredible impression on me, and I am richer for it. Deepest love and regards to his family. His legendary humour, endurance and service to others is an inspiration and lesson for us all.

I still cannot register he is gone, I still expect him to walk in the door. Although our family is not close, I always had a good laugh and enjoyed our sometimes bizzare sense of humour that all us brothers had in common, Jamie was the original instigator of laughing at bad wigs, shite hammond organ music with expertisim of bad taste. Jamie, I will miss you more than you will ever know. Que 'Fire' by The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, one of our favourite tracks with a splendid hammond organ sting. Your brother Sean xxx

Remembering our Son in Law Jamie who spent his whole life nursing others. Rest in peace.

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Jamie. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.