Grandma (Poem read by Holly) You fed me well, you made me strong. You taught me to know right from wrong. You made me feel that I belong. You showed me the value of a song. You gave me life, you gave me love. You always knew the way I feel. You used the words you thought might heal. You convinced me it was no big deal. Your advice would keep it real. You gave me life, you gave me love. Broken hearts you liked to mend. It was not in your nature to offend. Birthday cards you’d always send. You knew the value of family and friends. You give me life, you give me love. You left me now, you’ve gone away. I’m left behind, I have to stay. So I’ll just have to pray. I’ll meet you again another day. You always had that ‘special touch’. I loved you so very, very much. You gave me life, you gave me love. Please watch over me from above.

Our Mum (Richard's Eulogy) Our Mum, the thing about our Mum is that being a mum was what she enjoyed the most. Fussing over us, hugging us, telling us off, being proud of us and cooking for us, always cooking for us. She loved nothing more than getting us round the kitchen table and feeding us all. Nothing fancy mind you, roasts and stews in the Winter and barbecues in the summer, always with roast potatoes. She loved roast potatoes. There’s only one occasion I recall when Mum’s cooking was not up to its usual standard. One evening, out of the blue, she served up jumbo sausage rolls and tinned spaghetti hoops. This was so out of character we had to ask why? Her answer, delivered with her typical bluntness, was “Well, you have to sausage rolls and spaghetti hoops some time” When I think back, most of my memories of our Mum centre around fantastic meals at our kitchen table. Firstly just the four of us, but as we got older and had girlfriends who became wives Mum adopted Katherine and Andrea as daughters and the dining table extended. And then when grandchildren arrived - Holly, Alfie and Isla, Mum’s joy was unbounded - she was their wonderful Nanny and they loved her and they were loved very much. And nothing made Mum happier than seeing us all squashed around the ever expanding kitchen table. When she cooked, Mum loved a tipple, and sometimes more than a tipple. On one occasion, she had cooked us a wonderful roast dinner, served it and then disappeared. We sat there for five minutes or so, before we went to find her, only to find her fast asleep in bed. Normally red wine would be Mum’s drink of choice, but not always: Katherine and I enjoyed our first holiday together in Greece and we brought back with us a bottle of Mataxa brandy for Mum & Dad. Shortly after, we sat down to another wonderful meal, but we soon realised Mum was a little worse for wear - giggling and slurring - “What’s up Mum? What have you been drinking?”. It turns out she had tried the Mataxa, found it too strong for taste, so she decided to “water” it down with some cider! My other main source of memories for Mum are the social occasions she enjoyed so much. Trips up the M1 to Daventry to visit Margarita and Vince, along with Audrey and Bill for wonderous weekends full of laughter, wine and dancing. The mad Christmas Eve parties our parents held for many years that so many of you attended and always seemed to end with Dad getting thrown in the pool fully clothed. And then, the very next day, glorious Christmas dinners with her Mum Phoebe, her sister Margaret and Margaret’s family Alan and Joanne. And all the one-off events - birthdays, anniversaries, and even, bizarrely, the opening of the garage at their beloved house, Redmays. Our mum loved these events and always seemed at her happiest, busily skipping from conversation to conversation, laughing and constantly ensuring everyone was having a good time. Redmays has always been a place where there’s been so much fun with parties and family gatherings. Smiles and laughter were always a big part of family life and we know Mum would want that to continue. The past few years haven’t been kind to Mum, she became poorly and bed bound. Things were difficult for all of us. We would like to thank so many of you here today for supporting our Mum and Dad through this time, with the occasional phone call or visit for a cup of tea. It hasn’t always been easy but it would have been a lot harder without so many of the people in this room. Sometimes Mum became frustrated with her situation and sometimes this frustration was taken out on those around her. Please forgive her, this wasn’t our Mum, remember her as she was before. When someone you love so dearly passes on, they transition from someone you used to make memories with, to just the memories. So all you have left is the memories. We have fabulous memories of our beautiful Mum, make sure you take the time to make memories with the people you love. Finally, we’d like to thank-you all for coming today and hope that you’ll join us after at The Potters Arms for some roast potatoes and cider/Mataxa cocktails.

Terry’s Eulogy Hello everybody, nice to see you all. I’m up here to speak to you about my beautiful wife, Joan. How I met her and fell in love with her. Joan and I first met at work. She was a female draughtsman and I was an apprentice engineer. It didn’t take me long after she joined the company, to realise that she was someone very special. She was brilliant at her job, so neat and quick. She was highly regarded by the company. But it wasn’t only her technical prowess that interested me. I also noticed that she was very attractive, well put together, with lovely brown eyes and a beautiful smile. As well as, that she had a confident and pleasing air about her. I was smitten so I staked my claim early, she was aware of my interest but she played it cool at first. However, I was persistent and eventually I got my chance at the firm’s Christmas party when I danced with her and got a date (yippee!). From there I never looked back and we became a couple. It soon turned into real love and it was time for me to be shown off to her lovely parents Phoebe and Bob and her younger sister Margaret, who is here with us today. Then it was off to my house where the whole family took to her immediately, especially my dad. All was going well but there was one hurdle in front of us, National Service, we knew it was coming but it was not convenient. Joan took it well and sent me lovely, love letters every week. I managed to get away with one a week. She also worked hard to save money, for when I escaped. To my surprise, after I was demobbed, she proposed to me by saying ‘I suppose we ought to get married then,’ (very romantic). To which I replied ‘yes dear’. The wedding, although done on a shoe string, was fabulous. My mum made all the lovely dresses and Joan’s dad got the cars. We had a sandwich buffet at a pub in Hillingdon, it was cheap but nice. We went on honeymoon to Babbacombe in Devon. We had a wonderful time, but I’ll spare you the details. We returned home happy and content but that wasn’t it for us. Most of the young couples on our estate were having children, but not us. We were having too much fun, holidays in the Algarve, Switzerland and all round the world as well as parties, concerts and dances. When friends hinted kindly about our situation regarding children, or lack thereof, I always jokingly said ‘I’d lost the book.’ When we did try, we had no luck at first and were worried, but one great day I got a call from Joan at work to say ‘I’m pregnant,’ imagine our joy. Soon we had 2 lovely boys, Richard and John, and our cup was overflowing. Joan was in her element and just so full of joy and love. Now she had a loving husband and 2 lovely children, later adding 3 brilliant grandchildren, and she deserved it all. So, I come to today, where you have all turned up to show your love and hopefully share some of these memories of her. Let us remember we are not here to mourn our loss but to show love and thanks for her full and loving life. Finally, I would like to thank Katherine, Richard, John and Andrea for their support in the best and worst times. I would also like to express my gratitude to the management and carers at ‘Right at Home’ for their loving care of both Joan and I, and more recently just me. Thank you all, Terry.