Sylvia Jackson

MUM

Mum, you were the most intelligent person I ever knew, you always spoke properly and you made
Beverly and me speak properly and pronounce our words correctly and then when John Michael came
along you did the same for him.

We didn’t always see eye to eye with you, you always tried to see good in people.
You always had the best intentions for all of us.

You where a strong woman and you put up with the pain of arthritis for over twenty years and even
when it stopped you moving your legs enough to dance, you put your all into dancing from the waist
up, waving and moving your arm’s and head as much as you could, but it never stopped you lifting
your arm to have a whiksy and lemon before bed.

You must have been Liverpool F.C.’s loudest armchair supporter but you didn’t always shout nice
things at the telly, much to dad’s annoyance, but you stuck to your convictions and could have put
out a better team than any manager.

What upset you the most about being ill these past months was that you couldn’t make it to John
Michael’s 18th birthday party, but we did take lots of photos for you to look at.

You never got over loosing family, Joan your baby sister, Tom your dad, Lulu your mum, Barbara your
niece and most of all your babies who you never got to hold and say goodbye to, now you can cuddly
them as much as you want.

You where the rock of our family, the one that we all centred around, but we will all do is very
best to carry on for you.

This week without you sitting at home in your chair has been so hard the first thing I want to do as
I walk in is to shout “mum are you up” but I can’t.

Now all of us hope, that’s dad, Beverly, me and John Michael that you are now at peace out of pain
and worry free. Oh and I don’t think they have introduced a smoking ban up there yet, so you can
smoke and drink in peace.