Thank you everyone for being here with us today.
 
Mandy, my mum has tried to die many times before and now she has gone and actually done it. The contrary wee minx.
 
Our mum always wanted everything to be magical. When my brother Jamie and I were young, she loved to be spontaneous and surprise us. For example, we’d go to primary school in the morning and when we got home the living room had been transformed into a winter wonderland, the Christmas tree was up (don’t worry, it was actually December) and from that moment on, it was pyjamas, duvet on the sofa, Christmas movie marathons and home-made baked goods. She loved to bake;she always made our amazing birthday cakes. One year she made me a log cabin chocolate cake, lined with a layer of flakes so thick that Zeus himself couldn’t cut it. She also loved to knit and sew, knitting us the most fantastic themed jumpers. My Super Ted jumper was a marvel to behold. To be honest, she could master whatever craft she put her hand to and loved to see how much we appreciated her thoughtful homemade gifts.
 
She loved to create her own original stories for us but unfortunately, I don’t think she ever wrote them down. I can’t remember the specifics but I do remember the title of my favourite story which was Herbie the Ghost of the Giant Hamster who lived in Portland Avenue. Her imagination and creativity werelimitless, and she always encouraged us to develop our own sense of adventure and wonder. Knowing how much I loved stories about fairies, she once told me that fairies kept their clothes inside peach stones. To be honest I think she wanted to get me out of her hair because she knew exactly what I was going to do with this information; munch 3 peaches and then go out the back and pummel the peach stone fairy wardrobes for three hours with a brick to try and get at the tiny little garments contained within.
 
I think it was difficult for her the older we got. As our childlike innocence waned and we slowly began to lose interest animated films or making up stories about giant ghost hamsters, the fairy tale worlds we made together couldn’t be sustained with her as solo contributor. So, she got a dog. Sorry, correction, she got 3 dogs, Molly, Bonnie and Maisie. My mum was a woman that knew what she wanted, so there wasn’t much discussion about expanding our family. The conversation probably went something along the lines of: 
 
“Gordon, I think we should get a dog”
“No Mandy, I don’t think it’s the right time and we need to think about it”
“Ok Gordon, I see what you mean”
 
So, Molly appeared the next week, much to me and Jamie’s surprise and delight and to my Dad’s resigned annoyance. Molly’s sister Bonnie arrived about 2 days later, under the guise that she was for my Granny and Granda, but I think my mum had always planned for Bonnie to live with us. About maybe 2 years later, my mum arrived to pick us up from high school and there in the footwell was a tiny little white and ginger cutie pie called Maisie. Again, there was no family consultation. We all loved our beautiful, funny wonderful little furballs, but they were definitely my mum’s special favourites. She never responded well to be told she couldn’t do something or being told she was in the wrong, so the pups became her beloved companions, furry friends that gave unconditional love, her wee shadows, her posse, who wouldn’t contradict or answer back. But her mum and dad, Annie and Bertie will attest that she was stubborn from a young age. My Granny told me a story that one day, there was a wrap on the door, it was Jimmy the milk man. He said “Annie, do you know what your wee girl has just said to me?” My Granny knew what was coming. My mum had playing in the street on her bicycle and he had pulled up and asked could she move onto the pavement to let him get his milk van up the street. With a confidence beyond her six years of age she replied with “No. I was f@!*inghere first.”
 
I wont sugar coat it, life with my mum was often not easy, especially over the last 15 years.
But who wants a boring life? She kept us on our toes. Pain changes a person, and mum had emotional and physical pain in abundance. But she also possessed a huge capacity for love and compassion. I know she loved us all but her inability to love herself, to be vulnerable, to be honest, to be compassionate with herself eventually became a shield that she rarely stepped out from behind meaning she couldn’t feel how much she was loved. In the end, what it boils down to is that she was human. An intense human, but human none the less. 
 
Mum, I hope with all my heart you have found what your soul was searching for. I hope you have found peace. I hope you know you were loved.
 
Goodbye Mum. Thank you for the magic.