Mum's send off went well yesterday on a sunny and bright autumn morning, in contrast to the wet summers one we had for dad's.

For me personally the whole business has been harder emotionally this time
round. Initially I felt guilty about this until I figured out why this was
so. This wasn't just about losing Mum, the person who brought me into this
world; nor for being with her until the end-unlike Dad who caught us all
out. No. This was about the fact they are now both gone. Sure, they are now
back together and no doubt in better shape but they are not here at least in
a sense we relate to in the human state.

The service was as with Dads, and carried out with touching reverence by all
present. There was a good turnout of family, friends and neighbours; there
even being two representitives from the care home she was at in Stamford.
She'd made such an impression on them in such a short space of time.

I was finding it hard to control all the emotions but was composed by the
time it came for me to stand up front again. That was not so easy when we
followed her out on her way back to the cars and to Grantham, although I
didn't totally lose it. This was so different when compared to Dad's do and
again I couldn't figure out why...until I remembered on that day I'd been
occupied wheeling Mum around the grounds at the same stage. ;o)

Either way, by the time we were back at Hollands for tea and stickies and
then onto Mick's after that I was more my usual self. Sue, Ben, (friend) Dave and I then returned home and celebrated Mum's life by having a slap up meal at the
local pub.

Below are the words of Mum's Eulogy:

Today has a real sense of de ja vu, even so one or two here may not be aware
that I am Martin, Jessie's youngest son.

Experience you would think should make standing here before you so soon
after our last such get together that bit easier, shouldn't it? Well no it
doesn't.

Losing the person who physically brought you into this world unleashes a
whole new range of emotions hitherto hidden away deep within. Coming to
terms with these new found feelings will be achieved in time; it being the
greatest of all healers. This will be primarily because Mick and I were
there for Mum to complete the circle of life, supported so ably by Pam and
Sue at our own sides when the moment arrived. We at last in our eyes seemed
to do something right for her.

Born in Hendon, North London on October 1st 1922, Jessie Tyers was the
middle child of 3; the eldest her step brother Frank and a younger sister
Eileen. Here she spent her formative years and soon began to make an
impression. Glowing school reports tell of a "hard working, perservering
girl" who "wasted no time and made improvements every day". She excelled at
most subjects, particularly English & Arithmetic, and left school at 14 with
a post-education reference highlighting her conscientiousness and likelihood
to do well at clerical work.

Not unsurpisingly she became a junior clerk at Fowlers in Cricklewood in
November 1936, before following the family 'trade' so to speak and ending up
at the Broad Street offices of London Midland & Scottish Railways in the
City.

Away from work, she threw herself into the local church community at St
Johns also in Hendon. Here she was to meet her future husband Ron Woollatt,
whom she married in June 1943; a union that was to last through thick and
thin until cruelly cut short of their 64th Anniversary only 4 short months
ago.

That they got that far was down to a great deal of teamwork and effort and
was at times tested to it's utmost limit. There was also a degree of luck,
or maybe fate some may say. A swap of shifts with a colleague saw Ron off
work when the factory he worked at, took a direct hit during a German air
raid in the Blitz. On another occasion while they both walked home one
evening, Ron spotted some ultra hot shrapnel falling from the sky and pushed
Jessie aside and to the ground to save her from serious injury. She no doubt
gave him a tongue lashing for that one; to start with at least!

Her true strengths really shone though when in 1950, Ron had to have a then
life threatening operation to remove a TB infected kidney. With him unable
to work for 12 months and there being a 2 year old child to support, she
used all her financial acumen and no small amount of dogged determination to
somehow see them all through it. Bear in mind, there was no Welfare State as
we know it to help them out then.

As Mick and I know too well, these events invariably have a long lasting
effect. As a consequence, it wasn't until the family had moved to Basildon
in 1961 and settled there, that the cloud of that trying period finally
lifted. I'd arrived by then which wasn't a coincidence I hasten to add.

There, Jessie emersed herself in the social scene at St Martins from it's
birth in 1962 until they finally grasped the nettle of moving from Basildon
in 1993 to be nearer to their family here in Colsterworth. She became
involved with a multitude of activities, using her clerical skills to take
on various Treasurer-type roles, whether with the Mothers Union, Womens
Fellowship, PCC or such like.

Jessie, or Woolly as she was affectionately known; along with Ron, became a
bedrock to that church and many friends were made and kept even when their
allegiances switched to this St Johns, and she continued to get stuck in
here.

She would do anything that needed doing and must have covered miles in
cleaning and polishing. Wherever she was, there was laughter and she would
always diffuse some tense situation with a casual line from her rather
refined sense of humour. Ask me later about Anne's Knicker Money; or Mick
about the Teapot on Christmas Eve when the laugh was on her!

Above all else Woolly was Mum and Grandma and was intensely proud of her
family. She also in effect became a surrogate grandma to many children in
her time, such was her generosity and determination not to let them go
without as she no doubt had to in past times.

One of mum's strengths, or traits, depending on which side of the particular
fence you stood on at any given moment, was her ability to have the last
word...and with such effect with, or later without a full voice for the last
20 years or so!

I suppose when younger I often resented this; name me any teenage male who
has just been told he is in the wrong being able to walk away from the scene
contentedly accepting this new found discovery! But the truth of the matter
is, she was right...(almost always)!

Yes she could be stubborn and yes change wasn't always embraced as swiftly
as it could have been at times, but then all the above will go along way to
explaining why. The stubborness may even have contributed to her eventual
downfall, but beneath that was a faith that was stronger than most of us
could ever dream of.

We four witnessed that first hand, and it was Hilary's Blessing on that
fateful evening, that was the catalyst for such a remarkable transformation
in her demeanour. Her reward? To be re-united with her true-ist and only
soul mate and Mum was at peace with the world once more.
posted by wollocks at 1:01 PM