Life is for living and that is what Mum did for 99 years and 77 days. The third-born child of her parents, Ellen and James George, Anne (also known as Annie) outlived all her siblings Edmund, Sadie, Jim, Elsie and David. Her earliest memories were of her father polishing the buttons on his uniform when he was home on leave from the First World War. He was a shoemaker and passed his love of shoes to Mum. As a young woman on her way to work she walked past a shoe shop. The assistant knew her so well that she would always call out when new stock had arrived so that Mum could choose the latest style and put them aside until she had saved enough to pay for them. Other early memories were of sneaking into the classroom at school before she was ever enrolled as she was so keen to learn about the world. Her education didn’t always run smoothly. She often told the tale of how her French teacher regularly evicted her from the class with a very dismissive “Miss George . . . out!” Her education was also all too brief with her leaving school at 13 years of age. She did, however, go on to agricultural college where she recalled being the slowest eater in the refectory and how she enjoyed making the butter. She maintained meticulous notebooks which recorded so many home-making skills and make fascinating reading almost a century later. Life enforced her to utilise those home-making skills at a very early age when her mother passed away leaving Mum with the task of basically raising her younger siblings Elsie and David. She spoke with such pride of the admiration she received from neighbours in Dufferin Avenue, Bangor, County Down when Mum would call for Elsie and David to return home for their dinner. They would respond promptly and trot indoors – I wonder if it was because Mum had cooked up a pot of her delicious stew. At her tallest Mum attained the magnificent height of exactly five feet. She was decidedly cheeky and rode for half fare on the train from Bangor to Belfast for many years. It was when the ticket inspector challenged her by saying “Miss George, you seem to have been fourteen for a very long time by now” that she eventually began paying the full fare. A particularly happy time in her life was when she worked on the poultry farm. She and her boss had a relationship of mutual respect. It was at this time that she learnt to drive. She would drive the boss’s car to do the egg deliveries. Mum frequently told the tale of the day she drove for miles with the hand brake on. She confessed immediately to Mr Warnock who forgave her instantly. He had apparently smelled Mum’s return and had wondered how she would deal with the situation. He was very impressed by her honesty. Mum loved cricket and she used to tell the story about meeting Dad. Apparently Uncle Jim was a pretty good bowler having spent a lot of time in his childhood practising on his sister, Mum. Mum in turn knew all his tricks having been practised on, and could hit pretty much anything he could bowl. Mum first attracted Dad's attention when she attended a match where Uncle Jim's team won, with Uncle Jim being the star bowler. After it was over, Mum went out onto the pitch to hit a few balls around just for fun, and Dad was intrigued by the slip of a girl who could hit the star bowler all over the map and asked to be introduced. Who would have guessed that a wee lass who had left school at the age of 13 would end up marrying a six foot tall Cambridge graduate? Mum also loved crosswords and was so extremely proud of the day when Dad and his fellow graduate friend were stumped by a particular clue and she came up with the correct answer whilst dusting the mantelpiece. Dad’s friend was apparently somewhat incredulous. Mum and Dad settled in the village of Quorn near Loughborough in Leicestershire and it was here that she became a mother for real giving birth to her two wartime daughters Patricia and Penny. With Penny’s birth on Christmas Eve she became very distressed when the nursing staff told her that Dad would be able to join her and the baby on Christmas Day but Mum burst into tears because Dad was away with the RAF. Mum would tell stories of the bombing raids that went on all around them. It must have been terrifying. It was in 1947 that life changed dramatically for the little family of four as the new baby, Eileen, was born only a short while before Dad departed for Africa to take up the post of headteacher of the boys’ school in Tonj in the deep south of the Sudan. Mum was a very determined and strong woman and she was undaunted by the task of packing up and following Dad for a journey of some 4000 miles with three very young daughters. Once in Tonj Mum again made a lasting impression on those around her. The Dinka tribesmen were amazed by the ability of the tiny white woman to drive a lorry. I wonder if they knew how precariously she was balanced on the edge of the seat to try to reach the pedals. It must have been quite a spectacle especially as the Dinka tribesmen are sometimes noted for their height. With the Tutsi of Rwanda they are believed to be the tallest people in Africa. Another story she told with great pride was of the week she spent as a teacher. Dad was apparently struggling to match staff to classes so Mum teased that she would teach a class and, lo and behold, Dad timetabled her to do precisely that. She thoroughly enjoyed the experience of teaching English to the boys. She had not been in Africa long before becoming a mother again with the birth of Gillian. Soon after Gillian’s birth Mum and Dad became increasingly aware of the fact that Eileen’s development was not progressing normally. They eventually made the difficult decision to send Eileen home to England but it was a decision that would eventually break their hearts when Eileen passed away at only four years old and thousands of miles from her mummy and daddy. Eileen’s death was a few short months after the birth of Mum’s babiest daughters – the twins . . . me and Sue. 1951 could so easily have been a very tragic year as our birth nearly killed Mum but, as already mentioned, she was a very strong and determined woman and she survived. There are so many tales of Africa and those years made such a lasting impression on Mum who spoke of this period in her life right through until her death. Returning to England saw Mum step up to the mark as the wife of firstly the deputy headteacher of a school in Bristol and then the headteacher of Castlemount School in Dover. She always took great pride in her appearance and there are beautiful photographs of her attending school sports days and teacher conferences. There was a period when she ran the shop for the Girl Guides from home in Park Avenue. She was able to utilise her book-keeping skills at this time. Mum became a grandmother and spent time with all her grandchildren with some even spending time living at the Park Avenue house. The experience she had from raising siblings and then her daughters stood her in good stead for her time with Sarah, Christopher, Kym, Clair, Paul, Michelle, Andy and Vicki. With her five daughters all flown from the nest, Mum and Dad decided that Dad’s early retirement and relocation to a villa in Spain would be beneficial for both. It was so sad when Dad died before they could make their dreams come true. Mum decided to remain in England and moved to Whitfield. Her 37 years as a widow were very busy years. She joined the WI and not only baked some beautiful cakes but made same very good new friends. She took up art classes and painted some lovely pictures. She joined keep fit classes and was playing short tennis and swimming way into her 80s. She travelled and particularly enjoyed her visit to Patricia in Hawaii. She told the tale of her helicopter ride over the erupting volcano for many years. She met some of her great-grandchildren but her advancing years limited her interaction with them. It was a difficult decision when the time came for Mum to relinquish her independence and move into residential care but she truly blossomed at Abbotsleigh Mews. Staff and residents alike would be entertained with her stories of Africa and her six daughters. She never once faltered in reeling off the list of Patricia, Penny, Eileen, Gillian, Shelagh and Susan. In the last year of her life Mum became troubled and anxious considering herself lost and unworthy. Sue and I were so glad that we were able to be there for her throughout her hospitalisation. We were able to reassure her and build her self-esteem with acknowledging the fact that she had graduated with flying colours from the University of Life. I am confident that her passing was when she had achieved a time of inner peace and that she is now reunited with those she had loved and lost across the years. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Heaven’s branch of Tesco is having to restock with Cornettos at an alarming rate since Mum’s arrival. Our family chain is broken and nothing seems the same but as God calls us one by one the chain will link again. I love you Mum . . . always.