Hello everyone,

Thank you all so much for coming today to say farewell to Mum. She would have been delighted and amazed at the turnout. Thank you.

Mum was born in 1921, the fourth child and second daughter of Peter and Olive Lifford. Three more siblings were to follow making Mum the middle child of seven and the whole family lived in Ferrier Street, Wandsworth.

Mum’s Dad died just before her eleventh birthday. This probably contributed to the fact that Mum left school at fourteen to work to help boost the family income.

She had a number of jobs in the early years, sometimes working with her older sister. Mum used to tell us how she would hand over her pay packet at the end of the week and her Mum would then give her money for her bus fares for the following week. But instead of getting the bus, she would walk to work, the money saved allowing her to go to the cinema at the weekend.

In 1940, she found herself working in a factory making aircraft parts as part of the war effort. Fortunately for her, and for me, that’s where she met my Dad, her beloved Tom.

Tom and Iris were married in 1944, but it would be some time before they had a place they would call their own. It wasn’t until 1952 that they moved to Coleman Court in Southfields. A year later I was born, completing the happy family.

Mum was a stay at home mum and that’s no bad thing. She was always there when I got home from school and during the holidays and it also allowed her to look after my younger cousin whilst his mum was at work. This continued throughout my primary school years, but when I moved on to secondary school, Mum got herself a part time job as a dinner lady in the school kitchens. There she met Shirley Clements who years later would become my mother-in-law. What a small world.

On Saturdays Mum used to take me shopping, not for anything special, just an opportunity to go out. Usually we went to Clapham Junction or Tooting, but sometimes, for a change we’d venture further afield, taking the bus to Putney or Kingston. I particularly remember how we’d always go to a Lyon’s Tea House for tea and buns, a weekly treat.

Mum was a prolific knitter, producing jumpers, cardigans, scarves, all many of knotted items for all the family including her grandchildren who always had a new jumper to start the school year. They were to Mum’s own design and never matched the school’s, so Anthony and Emily weren’t just outstanding, they stood out as well. Evenings at home watching television would be accompanied by the clicking of needles, plus the occasional curse when something went wrong. I believe the technical term is dropped stitch, but it didn’t sound like that when Mum said it.

Every year we used to go on a family holiday to the Isle of Wight, usually as part of a larger group that included my uncles, aunties and cousins, and of course we would be resplendent in our matching knitwear that Mum had spent the entire winter making. Matching jumpers for Dad and myself and a coordinating cardigan for Mum. We looked the bees knees.

Mum was five years younger than Dad, so they both retired in the same year. Armed with their free bus passes they wasted no time in gadding about on trips to London and the suburbs. They also had lots of holidays, several a year and of course they were always ready and willing to baby sit.

In 1992 my Dad died and we thought that Mum would want to move closer to us, but she had a couple of close friends at Coleman Court and wanted to stay on. However when they both died, in the same week, Mum decided she wanted to move somewhere closer. So in 2001 she moved to Sutton and to Dorothy Pettingell House. Initially she was in one of the bedsits, but later moved to a one bedroomed flat.

This was, without doubt, the best move she ever made, no pun intended. She loved her flat and the many friends that she made over the years. She joined in with activities as often as she could as well as tending to part of the garden. Coffee mornings, afternoon tea, Bingo, even darts. Now that’s not something I ever thought I’d say - my Mum, the darts player! She also looked forward to the Turkey and Tinsel trips every year even though she nearly always came back with a cold and spent Christmas sneezing and spluttering. Mum loved living at DP House, Lynne and I used to say that she had a better social life than we did and we weren’t joking.

A couple of years ago Mum had a mini stroke, a cruel twist of fate that left her with mild vascular dementia. It robbed her of her short term memory and she would get frustrated and cross with herself for forgetting everyday things and not being able to find the right words to express herself. Worse still her personality changed and she became increasingly withdrawn and isolated. It’s not something I care to remember much, although, of course, she was still my Mum whatever.

So instead, I’m going to remember her as the cheerful, happy, smiling, laughing person we all knew, just like the picture on the front of today’s service sheet. Happy times, happy memories.

Night, night Mum, God bless.

Love you.