It is, without a doubt, one of the easiest things for me to do, to stand here and tell you all about Mum's qualities. About Mum's caring nature, about Mum's loyalty and devotion to family and friends, about Mum's great listening skills, and the very unique and special way Mum was able to get into the hearts of everyone she met. I could tell you how intelligent, funny and brave Mum was, and how much people admired her beauty, her style and ladylike manner. I could tell you about how fortunate both Sean and I feel to love mum not only unconditionally as her children but also for the person Mum was. I could tell you that as the only daughter of David & Sylvia Jones, Mum's childhood and early adulthood was full of adventure, travelling the world, meeting interesting people visiting interesting places. As the daughter of WO David Jones of the RAF Bomb Disposal Team in WWII, mum's life was far from ordinary. As Mum grew into a stunning young woman, she was never short of admirers. New dresses, hand-made by my Nan Sylvia ensured that every Saturday night Mum was never without a date. It was a tragedy in Mum's life that was to pave the way for the next 40 plus years. Engaged to be married, Mum's then fiancé was unfortunately killed in an accident. Mum wept and grieved for 3 months before picking herself up and joining the Queen Alexander's Royal Army Nursing Core. Based in Aldershot, Mum began and excelled in her training. 3 months into her training the QA's were allowed a night out. They were warned to stay away from a particular stomping ground of the PARA’s. Of course this deterred these girls none. Out they went to the Out of Bounds Pubs. On arrival, Mum caught the attention of one particular handsome young PARA, Bob. For those of you who already know this story, you will no doubt know the real words Bob said that night, for the sake of Sean and myself these were altered slightly when we were old enough to appreciate the story of how Mum & Dad met. Bob turned to his friends and said “I'm going to marry her”? I guess it was a true “love at first sight” moment as 3 months later my Dad gave my Mum £20.00 and said what you doing 2 weeks on Saturday? Mum replied “nothing why?”. Well go and buy yourself an outfit and a ring we are getting married. An old friend of Mum & Dad's, who was there when they first met, recently told me that the day Mum & Dad were married he saw them walking hand in hand laughing with each other, walking in the opposite direction to himself. He asked them where they were going to which they replied. “We are getting married”. They then walked off hand in hand giggling. Dad's friend George thought they were joking. The next 40+ years Mum & Dad worked hard to provide for their family, to build a future for their two children, to leave for them a legacy which could be carried on to their grand-children and great-grandchildren. Throughout they never deviated from this goal. Their different backgrounds seemed to gel. Two very different people who came together to make one whole person. They believed in each other, they were loyal, hardworking, consistent. They were sole mates. Both Mum and Dad recognised the qualities each other had, and when Dad passed away Mum's qualities grew to account for her loss, our loss. It is these qualities that we all loved, and why we will always miss not having Mum around. We will all find our own comfort to help us through loosing such a special person, but I would like to share with you a series of events throughout my life which has led me up to this day, which give me great comfort during a time I have needed it most. By telling you all, I hope it may give you some comfort to. I remember specifically two conversations a few years back, the first with my Dad the other with a special friend of mine. I remember asking my Dad a question which all children do, but at the age of 38 I was far from being a child. This made no difference, and I asked “Dad, do you believe in Heaven”. His reply to me was “Keri, I have no proof either way. In my life it is just as easy for me not to believe as it is to believe, so it is for that reason that, Yes I believe in Heaven. That way when my time comes, and there is a Heaven, I will go there” I remember thinking “wow” how cool is that. My second conversation with my friend was more of a story she told me. A story about our loved ones leaving us a calling card once they had passed on. A calling card in the form of a downy white feather. New angels wings left to each and everyone of us to let us know that they are still there watching over us, taking care of us and that there is a Heaven. Not long after my Dad passed away, and the very same night I drove to the shop and as I got out of the car, stuck to my window was a small downy white feather. I looked at every possible scenario as to how this got there. I could not see any other explanation but only that of my Dads calling card. I smiled. Dad knew it would help in my grief. When Mum was first told she was not well, another unexplainable feather turned up in a glass cabinet in a vase Mum had bought me. It was only when a friend commented on this vase and it was taken out of the glass cabinet after being there for a year, that we found another downy white feather. I practically ran to Mum to tell her about the feather we found. It was at that point when we both stopped in our tracks and instead of trying to fast forward to a time when Mum would be well again, we were able to stand still in the present time, the here and now and enjoy every minute of every day. And we did. It was a strange feeling, strange but comforting. This lead us on to a conversation about what we believed, and Mum believed that Dad was waiting for her, that he needed her. Mum wasn't frightened of moving on. Sad to be leaving Sean whom she was so very proud of. A proudness that practically burst through every pore in Mum's body. Sad to be leaving her daughter-in-law Terry, who she loved as her own. Sad to be leaving four beautiful grand-children Ben, Morgan, Molly & Keira. Sad to be leaving all of us. We feel this sadness now, and we will for a long time to come. During Mum's short illness, we were to meet a team of people whose caring, understanding and kindness overwhelmed us both. The St Ann's hospice home care team became good friends to Mum and myself. Janet, Jill, Jill2, Emma, Kelly and Kaye were to become, in the very short time Mum knew them, not just a team of carers' doing their job, but a group of people we grew to love and trust and who expressed how precious Mum was to them. The district nurses would call each other on their days off to ask about Mum. Danielle whom my Mum adored, would re-arrange her rota to see my Mum because she cared. During this time Mum was reminded as to how much she was loved by her family. Mum loved being a part of Dad's close family, and having Shirley & Peter, Pat & Jack and Lynn with her during her illness made her feel on top of the world. Mum loved her nephews and nieces and their partners who, in turn loved Mum. Your visits, your laughter & your sadness when you learned of Mum's illness helped Mum through the short time she had left. The friend's Mum met throughout her life were not just acquaintances, they became true friends. Old Army friends Keith & Annette, George. neighbours who became firm friends Jayne & Shay, old work colleagues, Martin and Pam, friends from France June & Richard, new friends & neighbours, Anne & Lidya. A friend who helped nurse Mum and who was with me when Mum passed away, Sylvia. Mum & Sylvia, although already friends, became even closer after Dad died. Their trips out and antics helped Mum through her grief. An unfortunate event in Mum & Dad's life created a unusual friendship with a young NI policeman. Mum touched the heart of this policeman, as he did Mum's. Three weeks before Mum passed away, this incredible man brought justice for Mum & Dad after battling against all odds for 3 years. Peter Stewart of the PSNI played a huge part in ensuring Mum & Dad's dream of leaving their children a legacy would come true. One of Mum's wishes was for us all to celebrate her life. Neither Sean or myself feel sorry for ourselves. Yes, we feel sadness and a deep longing to once again just cuddle, talk, touch and enjoy Mum's company. But we both believe that Mum's spirit along with Dad's is still here, taking care of us, protecting us, guiding us, loving us. I'd like to end with the same words my brother Sean said to us all when Dad passed away. When we think of Mum, it's okay to cry, and it's okay to laugh, we can be sad at Mum's passing, but we must always be glad and remember that we are both lucky and privileged, we who know her.