I remember the first time I met Carl: back in 2003 in a lift. He was newly elected, in a lift in Tŷ Hywel, and he greeted me with, 'Hi, comrade'. Following that, we became good friends. He never ceased to call me 'comrade' or 'mate', as was his way.

We know that politics can be a cold business, but, in contrast, friendships go to the heart of what it is to be human, and Carl was one of the most human souls I've ever met. He was unique—a one-off. He was friendly, warm, engaging, supportive. He was always supportive when you needed help. He was a sensitive man, and he had turned his hands to most things in his full life, including DJing, and as the First Minister said, he couldn't be beaten at karaoke. He loved music, particularly ABBA and, of course, his beloved Motown. When Billy Ocean's last world tour brought him to Cardiff, Carl was, of course, there at the Motorpoint Arena Cardiff that night, bopping along with the best of them. I will never be able to listen to 'Red Light Spells Danger' in the same light again.

The last time Jen and I properly caught up with Carl was after our wedding, in the bar of the Hilton hotel, where we were staying that evening. Carl had said he would try and see us before the end of the day, and sure to his words, he and his family appeared at the hotel entrance at around midnight. The only problem was that the hotel staff mistook him for a bouncer and wouldn't let him in without some extensive negotiating worthy of the Brexit talks. He did eventually talk his way in.

Carl developed a reputation as a bit of a fixer, so much so that the phrase, 'Draft the Sarge', has passed into common usage in Cardiff Bay. When Jen was once accused by an overzealous guard on Arriva Trains of travelling without a ticket, for some reason I will not go into, it was Carl who she turned to and helped sort it out. She thanked him for that, and I know that many other people were helped by him personally in their own ways. He was not always so helpful to me. I was once approached by a former mayor of Usk with an ambition to restyle his position as the town's portreeve—a small change but one that required a change to the law. I dutifully took the small request to Carl, who looked absolutely baffled as to why I would bother him with something so meaningless. 'No, boss', was the short response. I did try again, a short time later, and he said, 'No, boss' even quicker than the first time. [Laughter.] He knew that politics was about priorities and time was short.

Carl has now left us, but we are still here to carry on with the campaigns close to his heart and to enact the change that he so desired. As Ken Skates said earlier, let us look again at the way we treat one another as human beings, and let this be Carl's legacy. Farewell, comrade, and thank you for the music.