Remembering Connie When Mum and Dad asked if I’d like to give this eulogy - and I have to say I am sure that no-one ‘likes’ giving eulogies - I was immediately nervous, and that’s a massive understatement. I was very close to saying no. On that Sunday though, when Mum, Dad, Louise and I spent time talking about Connie, sharing stories and a few tears, smiling and even laughing through our sadness it made me realise that any eulogy for Gran should really be easy, if we just thought of her and spoke on her love of life, zest, spirit and maybe found time to mention her wicked humour. The stories and laughter we shared as a family on that day, while sorting through her photographs and bits and pieces, made her passing much easier for me. I have to be honest at the outset. Gran wasn’t the traditional white-haired old lady that the word Grandmother conjures up. She was far more than that stereotype, and I’ve come to realise she was a woman, mother and grandmother who was bigger in life than the convention of her time usually allowed. She was a Thoroughly Modern Milly, and intent on enjoying her life to the full. The stories of our beloved Connie are rife, and I am sure we’ll be sharing more later, but you’ll know, as I do, that telling them with a glass in hand is altogether different from telling them from up here where I have, to a degree, to respect the surroundings. Many of them are a just a bit on the naughty side, and some well into spicy. I would to love to tell you about the first time that my Dad went to Connie’s for dinner, before he and Mum were even engaged, but you’ll have to catch up with him later for that one! Connie was somewhat of a mystery to me when I was a child; I loved her, of course, but I don’t think I really started understanding her until I was older. This was when I got to know her as a friend, and this, to me, is more precious than having had the usual, traditional, and dare I say less exciting grannie. Her mischievous, devil-may-care nature endeared her to so many people. I do hope that we’ll all be sharing our memories later today, and learning new things about a woman that truly loved life, lived it to the full and never failed to surprise us, those who ‘knew’ her best. As an example - how many of you knew Our Connie was the high jump champion of Lancashire in her teens? I received a mail from Ben Greenwood a few days ago, and he was reminded of a visit Connie made, with Jennie and Doug. This was over forty years ago, so she'd have been fifty or a bit more.  Connie was wearing a mid-length leather skirt, and Ben remembers her asking Frank, "What do you think of my Annie get your gun outfit?" There was also the rumour that she'd got drunk at the disco on the same holiday.  All of this was quite an eye-opener to Ben at the tender age of 12 or 13, although it wouldn't raise many eyebrows now. And it has to be said, it’s far from the most eyebrow raising story I’ve heard! When I was younger, often seeing her in her furs and an outrageous hat, she always bought to mind a Duchess - she had that particular way of standing when a camera was pointed at her, one foot in front of the other, always looking just away from the lens. This is in stark contrast to the photos of her younger self, and the woman I came to know. I think that Gran clearly embodied girl power, long before the women's lib movement. She was always witty and risque in her humour, and her honesty and openness about herself was unusual, to say the least! When the war started, she was quite definite that that the army was not for her - the uniform was too ugly, and in her opinion, a very... ah... specific shade of brown! Gran and I talked just recently about that WAAF uniform, as she looked so gorgeous in it - you’ll see this on the back page of the Order of Service that Louise has produced so beautifully. She couldn’t quite remember if she really had tailored the uniform to fit her, but admitted that; This would have been strictly against the rules, but It was the just kind of thing she would do. She may have had a strong moral code, but was quite happy to bend the rules - how many people can say that their Grannie ended up in prison for going AWOL because she wanted see her new husband? She delighted in telling her Great Grandson Sam that his BGG (his Big Great Grannie) was an old lag. Gran was tremendously proud of her own personal war effort. She worked in Maintenance at Brize Norton, including building the wings, RE-building the wings (with spit and hope, as she put it), and painting the roundels onto the Lancaster and Wellington bombers. Hearing her stories of her time in the war was a revelation, about how ‘real people’ fared during that dark time. Gran always said that during the war, people were at their best. She said that since no one knew who would come home, every single day was a celebration of life, love and freedom. This should be a lesson for us all today. Gran has been blessed in her life with a wonderful family. Although she lost her mammy early in life, at only 11 and her father at 14, I know that she held treasured memories of them in her heart. The closeness between Connie and her brother, Frank, was precious to her all her life, and is clearly shown in the love and affection held for Connie by his children, and her for them. Nick, Ben, Mogs, Cath, and John have been more than nephews and nieces to her - they’ve been her friends, and their children a delight. Louise and I both waited a while after marriage before having our own children - my Sam, and her Luke. Gran, always one for a photo opportunity, loved being a BGG and I know that the boys have been lucky to have had her in their lives. Gran had an abiding love of travel, when few folks were venturing further than Blackpool or Margate, and whenever she came back home from a trip, the first report was always that the “food was beautiful.” Mum, Louise and I were looking through photographs on Sunday, and there was a noticeable theme in many of her holiday ‘snaps‘ - the waiters often featured. Gran had a way of making friends quickly, especially when food and drink were involved! And it is of course impossible to talk about Gran without mentioning food. Often when I’m in the kitchen, sneaking a few bites before everyone else, I’ll hear her voice saying, “It’ll only go to waste”... I remember as a child watching her lick up the last of the cream, and feeling a bit put out... but that hasn’t stopped me doing the self same thing to my poor son! Gran often talked, in the last few months, of those who’d gone before her. She was lucky to have had a lot of love in her life. To have had Granddad, and the sweetly self-conscious but very real love that he gave her was a gift. To find, later in life, another love with the gentle Arthur... well, that too was lucky, but a just a bit greedy! Towards the end, Gran admitted that she was longing to see her mother again, and her beloved brother Frank, but I’m not expecting there to be harps and clouds at this reunion. I think Louise put it best, when she said: “I wanted to say "Rest well, Gran" but thinking about it, she's probably had enough rest - I reckon she's dancing with the girls and pilots from Brize Norton right now!” I agree, but I know that all her family, and her all her lovely friends will be there too; there will be food in abundance, there will be Whisky and American - also in abundance! - but more than anything, there will be laughter. This may be the last day that we have Connie in our midst on this earth. While today, and the days to come, will be a celebration of her life, one thing still fills me with sadness. Gran would tell anyone who would listen - the wonderful folks from Kingston House, her friends, family, me, my sister Louise and even complete strangers - one thing, without fail. One specific, very important thing. But Gran never said the words to the one who most deserved to hear them. So, in closing, I’m taking this opportunity now, on Connies behalf: Gran was so very proud of her only daughter, Jennie. At every opportunity, she would tell everyone about how beautiful Jennie is, how kind, how thoughtful, how elegant, how clever, how wonderful a daughter she is. Gran would say how lucky she was to have a daughter like Jennie. Mummy - she loved you, she was proud of you, and while we were privileged to have had Gran in our lives, Mammy was blessed to have had her Lammy.