I, too, like many others, have lost my Dad. And I, like others, see the effects of cancer has and how it ruins not only the person who has it but those around them.
You miss them daily, you think about them daily, every life event you think of them. He was a builder, and many of the things he worked on are still standing today, some of which I use nearly every week. And as I use them I think of him, and feel proud of what he was part of, even though the other thousands of people who walk past these buildings and roads never think of who built them. They're just there, as objects. Some of them, hopefully, will continue to stand for years after I've departed.
While flesh is weak, the body a vehicle that will break down, what we create and leave behind can leave a legacy that isn't so easily removed. Something that is still used after we're gone, looked at, inspiring to others.
The legacy Mr.Dickinson leaves behind is just that. Programmers today cut their teeth on the Spectrum and ZX81 (even with the crappy dead flesh keyboard, but that's more Sir Clive's fault). They've gone on to create other things, software that still inspires etc. The legacy also captures the imagination of people like myself who weren't around in the heyday of the Spectrum but can look back on it, use it, and see the progression of the home computer, and gaze in awe on how such a simple machine with plenty of faults could be utilised to create stunning pieces of software that really shouldn't have been created on the machine in the first place.
The family, I am sure, will be proud of their husband and dad and what he has done in his lifetime, and that what he created continues to be looked upon fondly. Even in 50 years time they'll still talk about him and the impact he had on the home computer market.