love and go on

Vicky Florence
born August 1930















Born Vera Florence,
but her school friends decided Vicky was much better, and the nickname stuck.


Offered a place at the grammar school, but the technical college would
give better job prospects for a working class East end london girl.

After london and school in the blitz, she left home at 16 to work in the city.

She was briefly evacuated but the family couldn't bear to be apart and she came home again after 2 weeks)















Met my father at a dance.
Married, September 1951

We used to wear her wedding dress for dressing up when we were kids.

It was gorgeous. A halterneck dress and jacket with lots of little fabric buttons which i always loved.

My dad turned out all our dressing up clothes - when we moved i think. :o(

but i still have a little bit of the fabric.

And her wax orange blossom, which i wore for my own wedding.







3 children within 3 years. (I'm the little one)


























When we were all very small, she went back to college to do A levels, then a teaching qualification.
This is a school photo. She taught infants and juniors for nearly 15 years and was a very much loved teacher. She also did some adult literacy work.








In the 1970's and 1980's mum and dad organised and led long distance walking holidays for young people in the lake district, yorkshire, west country....

making friends (some of whom are still good friends)

and offered hospitality at home to international students and their families ...


more friends







After "retirement" they had a guest house in Devon, where lots of guests came back - and again - and became good friends.

Mum had a gift for hospitality, welcome, caring and wonderfully good food.

In "proper" retirement in Sussex, she went to french and english literature classes, regularly did creche in their local church, got involved in hospital visiting.....

wrote lots and lots of letters, cards, began emailing.... would have loved blogging if she'd not discovered it too late.























This last picture was Christmas 2006, a wonderful family christmas which we had thought we'd have to face and get through without her.

She said on that boxing day morning that she woke up "brimful of joy".

























Wasn't she beautiful?
and so much more beautiful on the inside.


May 2007 we said goodbye to mum at a small family funeral which was carefully planned by mum and dad months earlier. Having thought she had much less time with us than the year she actually had, mum had been very interested in sorting out all the details of her funeral and thanksgiving service.








She was brought home in the morning.

We decorated her casket with flowers from all our gardens.

That wasn't in the original plan - the undertakers suggested it - and it was wonderful. She would have loved it so.

Dad asked us to take some photos so that we could share them with others who loved mum - and though it felt a bit odd, I'm so glad to have these. It was a heart-wrenching and very beautiful ritual to share.

























Roses, clematis, ivy, wisteria, dog daisies, cow parsley (from the hedgerows down the lane), london pride, philadelphus, lilacs, cornflowers, wallflowers.

The service was at home.


19 of us, intimate and comfortable around mum and dads lounge.


We listened to some favourite music they had chosen.

Listened to some readings, poems and prayers.

Then we buried mum in a little country cemetary - just a little field really, with a tumbled down shed in one corner, and with these bluebell woods just over the road.










This is one of the poems which was read, and its so very much my mum, she had such a gift for being positive and outgoing, for almost unfailing patience and kindness.

I sometimes get quite annoyed with myself, with the instinct I inherited from her, and the habit I learned from her, of being positive - seeing the good in situations, looking on the bright side, glass half full, blah blah blah. Don't you just sometimes want to be miserable?

But i do know that its one of the most precious legacies i have from her.



This poem (by David Harkins) so much expresses what she was like, and so absolutely what she'd want for us:

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she'd want; smile, open your eyes, love and go on.





This Saturday other family and friends from over the years, and around the country - and some from overseas - will be coming to give thanks for mum's life - for her, everything she was. And to say goodbye. She carefully planned it all with dad, chose the songs and hymns and readings; invited friends from her life to share memories of her.

At the moment I am absolutely dreading it.

I think it will be overwhelming, so many people. And painfully final. Another goodbye and letting go. And recognising that she belonged to other people, that so many people loved her makes it worse as well as better.



She was very concerned that the catering would be good.

We will have to keep an eye on the sandwiches - that they are arranged just the way she would have wanted. She cared about the little things.