Goodbye Lillo <3

Today was Mum's funeral.

It went exactly as planned and was lovely.

My Aunt Bonnie (Mum's older sister) and her husband David arrived at 9.30 and my Brother Tom about 10.30, I made a playlist for the wake and printed out my speech.

The hearse and limo arrived at 11, Tom and I rode with the coffin and Max and the boys and Bonnie and David followed in the limo.
Olli Holmes walked ahead of the hearse in his top hat to the end of the road. It was quite surreal in the hearse but not unpleasant, Ollie and his Dad David who was driving were good company, Tom asked if they ever had a day off and David basically said no they don't and said he had helped out with his friend's funeral as he had died in Spain on Christmas eve, Tom said 'It wasn't Rick Parfitt was it?' and it turns out it was and we were in the same hearse with Mum as Rick had been in.

As we arrived at the Crematorium I was delighted to see a sea of lavender, Mum's favourite scent, we didn't feel up to talking to friends and family who had gathered for our arrival so we waited in the hearse and went in the back way.

Gulliver set up Tom's guitar in the chapel and made sure it was in tune and Zebedee and Tom helped to carry the coffin in. The coffin really looked lovely, I chose a purple hand made eco basket in a traditional coffin shape. It was carried in 'The Long and Winding Road' by the Beatles.

Marion Royer the Celebrant did a fantastic job and read a comprehensive account of Mum's life, then my Aunty Jojy (Mum's younger sister) gave a very moving account of her favourite memories, then my Brother Tom sand 'Days' by the Kinks which was really beautiful. Then I read my speech which I found very hard indeed but got through, Zebedee came to support me which was lovely.

Our reflection music was Clair de Lune played on piano by Walter Gieseking.


Then to close we had 'The Story of My Life' sung by Gary Miller.


It was a beautiful sunny day and we chatted for some time outside in the garden.


Then we made our way to the Tapestry Bar for the wake, Jackson and Lucia put on a great spread of Spanish tapas and sandwiches.


It was lovely to reflect on Mum's life with family and friends afterwards in a relaxed environment.






Marion's Eulogy


Now let us hear something of LILLO’S STORY
 
l  Caring, kind, thoughtful, loyal
l  Funny, mischievous, naughty
l  Full of energy and elan
l  Adventurous
l  A great sense of humour
l  A bit of a hoarder
l  Liked to party
l  Enjoyed music of all kinds
l  A passion for the theatre
l  A brilliant mimic
l  Always took pride in her appearance - and she loved to wear leopard print!
l  Cheerful, brave, uncomplaining
l  An indomitable spirit
 
Lillo was born in Hove on 18th October 1937 to Edgar Slack - a sales and marketing director for the family business “ENNA” (a homeware company) - and his wife, Joy, who had been an auspicious violinist before having children. A perfect little sister for Bonnie - who says she was full of fun and mischief - and eight years later, a lively and protective older sister to Joanna, who remembers her long fair plaits and freckles..
The family moved to Ruislip soon afterwards. Lillo and Bonnie were evacuated to boarding school in Wales during the War, where Lillo particularly enjoyed feeding the animals, collecting the eggs, and the freedom of living in the countryside.
After having Governesses at home Lillo was sent to Queenswood School aged 11, where she met her lifelong friends, Paula and Angela, bringing lots of love and laughter into their lives.
Looking back on those days, another school friend, Pam, sympathises with some of the weaker members of staff: it was impossible to be serious with Lillo around.
Paula, Angela and Lillo shared flats from time to time when they were older, one particularly dingy one with a prestigious Cheyne Walk address!
Lillo went on to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (incidentally Glenda Jackson was in her year) and subsequently toured with a number of companies including the Watford Rep, both acting, and also undertaking the duties of Assistant Stage Manager. It was her dream to have an acting career, but she took a secretarial course to provide more financial stability, and went to work for the BBC in White City.
But she always regarded the theatre as her true calling: it was “her life”.
Lillo’s father then asked her to join ENNA, as a sales representative, with a Ford Popular as part of the package. She had passed her driving test first time at the age of 17, so no doubt this was a very attractive proposition. Off she went to Bourne and Hollingsworth for some stunning outfits and hats! She took on a territory that ran from London north and west, up to Birmingham, which gave her ample opportunity to imitate the many accents she encountered on the way, the Wolverhampton accent being one of her favourites. More about her mimicry later……..
Always adventurous, she then left the family business to work at the “English pool” in Brussels, producing translations of what were then EEC publications. This was the early sixties, and wine and beer was delivered and left on doorsteps, just like milk in England!
Having had her children in Bromley Lillo moved to Brighton in the late 70s, at one time she worked in the typing pool at the tax office with about a dozen others. Six of them became good friends, including Donna Hollingsworth, who remembers the fun times they had. Yes, they worked hard, but Lillo also started a book club at work. And then they started going to the bookies once a week on a Friday, studying form, and putting on £1 bets. Except that one week they found they had been to the bookies every day, and had to admit they were becoming addicted. It wasn’t even as though they had much success either! The canteen at work was also a temptation, being on the same floor as the typing pool:  many portions of cheesy chips were consumed with gusto!
In Brighton Lillo rekindled her love of the theatre and joined several local Amateur Dramatic groups of which she was a very active member for over 20 years, Lizz ‘s family, friends and workmates all enjoyed countless performances at these lovely intimate Theatres.
Lillo married Michael Wood in November 1964. Katherine was born in 1965 and Thomas came along in 1967, and although the marriage didn’t last, Lillo took Tom and Katherine to Wales every year to see Michael’s Parents. Family was very important to her, and she was close to her own Parents, her sisters, and their families, too.
Lillo became fiercely independent and resourceful after the divorce, renting out rooms in the family house and employing live-in au pairs, and earning her living doing secretarial work in London and then in Brighton when the family moved there in 79. Katherine and Tom are very proud of their Mother for the way she simply got on with life, and say they never went without. They always did something fun on a Sunday.
Tributes to Lillo have been pouring in, many of them commenting on her kind and caring nature. She just loved to help other people.
l  When the children were small she played piano at her older sister’s nursery school, and she also belonged to a group of adults who took mentally handicapped young people on outings.
l  She learned sign language so she could communicate with the deaf, and befriended an elderly deaf couple, visiting them every week for years until they had both passed on.
l  In her sixties, she volunteered for the Stroke Club, helping people on and off the bus and assisting with trips.
And here we see Lillo’s good karma in action, because it was through the Stroke Club that she met Gerry Edge, a volunteer driver with the organisation. They were together for ten wonderful years. Gerry’s four grown-up children and extended family came to love and appreciate her, too, although they hadn’t been quite sure at first of the new woman in their Dad’s life (with her leopard skin print leggings!).
Lillo and Gerry went bird watching in Dungeness, on trips to Borneo and to the Galapagos, had adventures in France and Ireland with the VW camper van, and cruised the Caribbean. She knew the names and birthdays of all his children, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren - and their partners. She was always interested in what they were doing.
I will conclude with a quote from Gerry’s four children, Candy, Debbie, John and Rachael:
“Lizz rekindled in Gerry the joy of amateur dramatics, introduced him to The Sun newspaper, and added Worcester Sauce to his Friday night Holy Grail of spaghetti bolognese. They laughed a lot: they made each other laugh with just a look.
We came to admire Lizz for the inner strength she must have had to cope with what life had thrown at her. We came to love her for who she was, as well as what she meant to Dad, and will always be grateful to her, because she made him happy again”.




JOANNA 's speech (YOUNGER SISTER)


My main memories of my lovely sister Lizz are her sense of fun, her loyalty, her friendship, and her stoicism.    

Lizz was nearly 8 years older than me and went to boarding school so I mainly saw her and Bonnie during the school holidays. 

My sisters were born just before the war, and going into the air raid shelter, and also under the stairs for safety, made a big impression on them. After the war, I remember Lizz and I used to play a game  that I loved.   We would build a house out of dominoes, and she would invent the family with all the details of what they were like, their names and what they were having for breakfast. Then remembering her wartime experience, she would re-enact an air-raid, and the domino houses would tumble to the floor.  She also used to pretend she was dying, and would fall to the floor, and say 'Give my grey socks to......and then she died. I never got to know who would inherit them. 

We had lovely family holidays in Middleton, where my parents rented a thatched cottage with a garden that led down to the sea. We all used to ride along the beach, and go beach combing and then go back to the garden, where Lizz would be doing something daft and make us all laugh. 

When I was at boarding school Lizz and Bonnie were at RADA and Lizz showed a real talent for acting. As most of us know, she never threw anything away.  When I asked her once what she could possibly do with hundreds of pairs of shoes, and all those old fashioned dresses, she said they might come in useful in one of her performances.

After my father died, Joy came to us for Christmas for many years, and Lizz often came too. It was always great fun and later, after Joy had died, Tom and Becky loved her coming as she helped to make Christmas jolly and exciting. Becky remembers her being a gypsy telling fortunes, as we sat round the Christmas tree.

A lot later, she met Gerry, who brought her and all of us, such a lot of fun and happiness and was such an important part of the last decade of her life and made her so happy. He was like fine wine which she saved until the evening of her life, and his lovely family were always so welcoming and kind. We four got on very well together and used to meet regularly, staying  in each other's houses, and meeting at different pubs.  Gerry and Chris strode ahead on our walks, often on the South Downs while Lizz and I had long sisterly chats. We grew even closer, and I miss sharing our thoughts and feelings.  She and Gerry had some fabulous holidays together and she told me on one occasion they drove through France, singing their favourite songs.

Lizz was ill for quite a long time before she was diagnosed but Gerry told us that she took the news with great bravery and stoicism.   Gerry looked after her with so much tenderness and care, and managed to make her laugh and still have fun together.

Lizz would have been very amused that my youngest granddaughter, Lucy, knowing she was in hospital, asked Tom how Aunty Lizard was getting on.  

We were staying with friends in St. Albans on the night she died, and Chris said in an email he wrote to Katy and Max "Jo decided to light a candle for Lizz at the shrine to St.Alban in the cathedral. It seemed very appropriate to create a symbolic little light to remember a beautiful sister who had brought so much light to the lives of others."




'Days' by The Kinks sung and played on guitar by Tom Wood



Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I'm thinking of the days,
I won't forget a single day, believe me.

I bless the light,
I bless the light that lights on you believe me.
And though you're gone,
You're with me every single day, believe me.

Days I'll remember all my life,
Days when you can't see wrong from right.
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you'd leave me,
But it's all right,
Now I'm not frightened of this world, believe me.

I wish today could be tomorrow,
The night is dark,
It just brings sorrow anyway.

Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I'm thinking of the days,
I won't forget a single day, believe me.

Days I'll remember all my life,
Days when you can't see wrong from right.
You took my life,
But then I knew that very soon you'd leave me,
But it's all right,
Now I'm not frightened of this world, believe me.
Days.

Thank you for the days,
Those endless days, those sacred days you gave me.
I'm thinking of the days,
I won't forget a single day, believe me.

I bless the light,
I bless the light that shines on you believe me.
And though you're gone,
You're with me every single day, believe me.
Days.







My Speech


Mum was an artistic soul, she played piano and the accordion by ear, she could do any accent and mimic anyone to a T, she was extremely perceptive and had a great comic gift and sense of humour. Growing up the house was always full of music, she was a big pop fan and we often played records and we always listened to the Top 40 countdown on a Sunday afternoon wherever we were, I remember having it on in her Morris Minor on her portable Roberts radio if we were on a trip somewhere. 

I remember sitting by a stream with Mum and my brother Tom when I was about 10  and she said 'these are the idyllic days before we go our separate ways' I was so struck by the phrase and the feeling in that moment but I didn't really understand the full meaning at the time, I often think of it now as I experience my own children growing and changing and becoming adults.

It hasn’t been easy supporting Mum throughout her illness even with the incredible help and support of My husband, family and friends for which I’m very grateful but I'm so thankful for the experience because it actually brought Mum and I closer. She was so dignified and brave throughout, I really admire her stoicism and calm humour in the face of such a terrible illness, for example her speech became so bad towards the end that it was a string of vowels at times and I used to impersonate her back to her to illustrate why I couldn’t understand her and she’d be helpless with laughter and through her humour we were still able  to comunicate.

One of my favourite memories of my Mother is when she used to read bedtime stories to Tom and I, she would put so much expression into it and had a different voice for every character and never got them mixed up, it was a magical experience that we both looked forward to every night.

After our Parents split up we had au pairs living in to help look after us and I recall aged 8 Aunty Cherry who was from Somerset being really cross with me because I had drawn on the bathroom mirror with a lipstick and she had overheard me making Tom laugh by impersonating her ‘Some little Madam has drawn all over this mirror with a lipstick!’  Cherry complained to Mum when she came home from work and when Mum asked me privately about it all she wanted was to hear my impersonation which she thought was hilarious.

In the 80s we lived off the Seven Dials in Brighton, a place where seven roads meet, Mum was very funny and if she saw me walking home across the dials she would affect a pronounced but very convincing limp and keep it up all the way around until we met.

I used to enjoy helping her with her lines when she was studying a part, she would say “I’m never going to learn this part, I must be mad taking this on’ but she always did and she was always excellent.

Mum was never one to say 'darling that's amazing' but she just always let me express myself, I was free to sing, dance, listen to music and paint, she never really gushed with praise but she didn't stop me or criticise me either.  When I was helping to clear out her house 4 years ago I found 20 copies of the local newspaper that she'd bought with my photo in it when I made a record at 17 and lots of clippings and cuttings about me through the years.

When I started singing in Brighton bars and clubs Mum would always come along if she was free and when I moved to London she used to come to my shows there too, everybody always liked her, she was a very easy going, open minded fun person.

So as Mum and I come to the end of our idyllic days together and finally go our separate ways it’s the happy memories of all the fun we had that remains.

Lillo will always be the woman who gave me life, she was my lovely Mummy.














We stayed till about 7 and the got a cab home and watched Forest Gump.