Tribute read at the funeral: Lorna, Mrs. Ferris, Brown Owl, Sis, Auntie Lorna, Helen or Michael's Mum, Pete's wife, Grandma, Mum: these are the names that each of you might have known my Mum by - she was many things to many people. Thank you for being here to remember her. My mum was a girl guide from about the age of seven until her dying day (including unofficial membership of the wrinkly guide group). Honesty, hard work and promises were important to her, instilled in her children and all the brownies she guided (no pun intended). She encouraged all to do their best, to help others and to follow through on promises. She was exacting, and once said to me: you first need to gain their respect, then you can gain their love. I firmly believe she did that. But I also feel that it was enjoyable and exciting: pack holidays were a definite growing up experience for many, and lots of fun times were had on those Tuesday nights in the Church Hall. I must say however, that this made it hard for me to date in Kingswood. All the young girls seemed to know my Mum. Oh, you are Brown Owl's son was a forewarning of the incoming let down. I had to go to America to find a wife! On a different note, I recall witnessing first-hand the respect and love that both work colleagues and the children they served, shared with her and she with them. Her office door was always open. Family was important to her. She loved to host parties, often in the back garden with the flowers she was so proud of, aiming to make everyone happy. My parents didn't drink much, but always had something on hand in the bottom cupboard that visitors might like. At Christmas, we most often were at 14 Gages Road, and I do recall one year when Nanny, Auntie Peggy and my Mum encountered a few too many snowballs and ended up like three little girls giggling on the sofa. She told stories of her "rogue" brother bringing his navy friends in through her bedroom window to avoid waking their parents, but the story was always told with affection. She continued to enjoy quizzes, beetle drives, Hoi bingo and games such as Skipbo, scrabble and rummy, even beating me three times (yes, three times in a row) this past July. She encouraged and supported us all, allowing us to aim high, helped us succeed, whilst also being there to catch us when things didn't go quite right. A true mother. That respect and love I mentioned before, extended to her three grandchildren: Peter, Martha and Ben. She was very much part of their lives, and even to the end they were all part of hers. Grandma was part of their “gang”, cheerfully confiding her inability to time the fake cough to cover her passing wind, among other things. Covid had one blessing in that zoom connected all of them and their loved ones together on one screen and enabled them all to share stories and feelings even though many miles separated them all. And yes, the pictures don't lie - she did shrink a little as she aged! Friends and neighbours were cherished by my parents. Their 50th wedding anniversary canal boat trip was memorable for them mainly because everyone had a good time. The neighbours we grew up with were so close that we all referred to them as Auntie this or Uncle that, and this grew as new faces in the neighbourhood replaced old. One friend stands out especially. After meeting on the bus stop going to work, shortly after moving to Kingswood, Ann and Lorna struck up a friendship that lasted over sixty years. They were often mistook as sisters, worked at adjacent schools, were called Brown Owl and Snowy Owl by many, were Sunday School teachers, and spent wonderful times together with their husbands on vacations and family events. Indeed they were there as godparents at my christening, at our wedding in the US and even at my son Ben's christening. I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge with gratitude their care of my mother after my dad died, and also the support of their daughter Rachel for my sister. I also want to publicly extend my thanks to those who helped care for Mum in the past years, to recognize both Garry and Jane, but most especially Helen for the extraordinary care and love they gave her, allowing her to live well, independently until her fall earlier this year, and with dignity. Her faith was central to her life. While she and I may have disagreed on some finer theological points, I am grateful to her for firmly centering God in both our lives and for our shared beliefs. She was a long-time member of Holy Trinity Church and more recently joined Kingswood Congregational Church, enjoying the closely knit community that is present here. My love of Christmas carols stems from the time she took just me as a young boy to a candlelight service at Holy Trinity and I could sing with her those songs of joy. It was fitting that she was able to spend her last Christmas with us in Madison, singing those carols once again at our church. My mum liked to dance. She and her friend Fay would go downtown and strut their steps as teenagers. My dad - not quite as good at dancing. Nonetheless, when we were teenagers, we all (Auntie Ann, Uncle Stan, Jonathan, Rachel and the four Ferris') went to Fishponds for dance lessons. We learned many basic steps. In later years, it was fun to recall those steps with them on holiday at Warners or at the Derwent, their favourite holiday spots. Now you all know that ballroom dancing requires the man to lead, but I don't think my Mum got that memo - she definitely encouraged my dad as to what came next! I think that many people felt that was the same in their daily lives too - but I believe it was more complex than that. At 15 she asked "hey little boy, can I teach you how to swim", and spent the next 68 or so years opening horizons for him, planning together and moving them into new situations and experiences, while he cared for her needs with love and devotion, always after her to "give us a kiss". When he died, it was like a key cog went missing in their well-oiled engine and she was never quite the same or able to be completely happy. I know that the name she loved the most was "darling, or ma lover" and I am happy that they are now reunited. I guess he had the kettle on for her well before she arrived! To conclude, I share some favorite words of the hymnist, Whittier: Drop thy still dews of quietness, till all our strivings cease. Take from our souls the strain and stress and let our ordered lives confess. The beauty of thy peace. The beauty of thy peace. God bless you Mum.