Where do I start. You were so many things to so many people - a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a wife, a mother, a nanny, a friend and a colleague. To me though you were my best friend, my confident and my rock. Or to quote, W H Auden, My north, my south, my east my west.

On the day our world fell apart with the cancer diagnosis you told me that we would have the hardest job but in truth it was you who had the harder job. You have borne a pain none of us could ever imagine. Even childbirth was a walk in the park compared to what you have just endured. You frequently liked to tell us that giving birth was like shelling peas.

Growing up we were lucky to have you at home during the day, you were there to take us and pick us up form school and we were there to drive you mad though the holidays. You did so much for us - packed lunches, making dinner, cooking, cleaning, shopping etc and when dad had to work late you just carried on did his jobs to like mowing the lawn, painting and decorating. You were so very proud of all of us and unreservedly supported us in any of our endeavours, no matter how crazy you thought they might have been. You never judged, you let us find our feet and then our own wings. You frequently liked to tell people of your twins granddaughters, in fact anyone that would listen! But I think even they started to take second place to your shiny new kitchen - all the nurses knew about it and you even made one of the paramedics go and check it out!

Being the child whose mum was a nurse, if we were sick in anyway we just had to suck it up - there was never any sympathy forthcoming for us! In fact we had to work hard for it and Tim went the extra mile on that one breaking his arm in such a way that he was immediately spirited away to A&E. Yet when I fell off a pogo stick I had to wait until after the roast Sunday lunch before you thought it might be worth getting me checked out and decided a trip to A&E was in order only for the doctor to tell you I had a fracture and then I was promptly wheeled off to have a cast fitted.

Next to Sunday lunch things often stopped for a good book. You would visit the library on an almost daily basis, returning with an armful of books and speed reading your way through them. I dont think there was a book in Newport library you didn't read. Your favourite books were anything that seem to involve helicopters or submarines. Your knowledge of nuclear subs or combat helicopters is scary and you could probably fly one given half a chance. You also liked books of human endeavour and survival particularly those that involved mountains.

Things also stopped for any form of sport. Your love of cricket came from your own father and you would often roll fags for your dad as he hung wallpaper with the radio tuned into test match special. Sunday lunchtimes during the summer were reserved for watching the MotoGP and then through the colder months you would settle down for any form of Winter sports; Men's downhill, ski jumping and biathlon were always on the list and quite often I would hear you complaining that Johannes Tinges Bo couldn't hit a cows backside with a banjo or that Dave Ryding just needed to stay upright on his next ski run.

These same groans of disappointment or joyous delight were also often felt for Strictly Come Dancing or the Great British bake off. We would fire messages back and forth on the nights the each program was aired amazed at who survived Strictly, why the donkey hadnt gone or how much of car crash of the showstopper challenge had turned into.
These messages were then followed up animated conversation via facetime where we dissected everything and just generally talked total rubbish for hrs on end.

As ive grown up and the dynamics of our relationship have changed, ive come realise what an amazing person you were. You were always so generous, kind, caring and compassionate, Nothing was ever too much trouble for you and you would do anything for anyone. You were forever getting us out of tight spots over the years - babysitting at moments notice, jumping in the car to deliver a forgotten mobile phone, adjusting a dress, accompanying people to various doctor appointments, taxi service the list is endless. Even in your last days you were still insisting on paying for my flights back to the UK. That's just the sort of person you were.

There are so many more things that I could talk about like exploding eggs and apple pies, running for trains in Amsterdam, painted toenails, dior perfume on the duvet cover, flooded bathrooms, beetroot chutney, blackberrying, lunchtime swims, stealth car driving, the sound of the toaster popping, hotly followed by the sound of the smoke alarm, sunsets, itchy mouth cheese, Kelly's Heroes, moves like jagger, bacon butties, fresh bread, thimbles, driving home for Christmas, Paddington bear, enough food at xmas to feed the 5000 and just one more decoration on the tree but this has already started to read a bit like War and Peace, and if you were here I know you would be wishing I would shut up so you could go get a cuppa.

There is however one thing I do want to mention and that is your need to be early for any appointment and also the need to be at the airport/ferry terminal hrs in advance to the point that its comical. I will admit though on several occasions you were right and this has now rubbed off on me, I wish that this one time you had been late though.

So now its time for you to rest.... and to see if Elvis really is dead, and if he isn't as Hetty would say Bugger it