Jean Chapman

From Mel

I have a few words that come to mind, loving, caring, feisty, sassy and strong. You loved us all even in the ups and downs of our lives. You had a great cheeky sense of humour even when you were so very poorly. When I came, we always had a giggle, in fact even the carers said they could hear us.

Mum, you taught me to love. You taught us manners. You taught us respect for those who deserved it. You taught that it doesn't matter what you have as long as you are happy.

When we were young your door was always open. You and Dad had so many friends.

Sunday was baking day. You would get your mixing bowls out and throw all the ingredients in without having to measure them, and then bake such lovely cakes. Your farmhouse plum bread that smelled so good and tasted even better.

You made our wedding dresses, bridesmaids dresses, and of course the cakes. There was nothing you couldn't do.

And then there were the wombles: you made loads for children and adults night after night, sewing so as not to disappoint them.

You mum were the best wife, daughter, niece, Nana also known as new Noo Noo, although you didn't think much of being named after the Teletubby Hoover, but it was because Jess couldn't say Nana.

Mum we are also broken hearted, our love for you will never die. Mum, your strength shone out in us all. Stay close Mum I need you. I will be watching for you as I go about my daily stuff.

Love you so very, very much love Mel.

Please see below a reading of our memories from all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

Today, as we gather to honour the life of our beloved Nanna, Nan, Grandma, or as some of us affectionately called her, Nanna Noo Noo, and Little Granny, we are filled with both sadness and gratitude. Sadness for the loss of such a remarkable woman, but gratitude for the countless memories she has given us, as we find comfort in sharing the cherished memories we hold dear in our hearts.

Nanna was a source of joy, warmth, and endless love. Sleepovers and weekends at her house were the best. We spent entire days crafting memories, creating treasures with her guiding hand. She would whisk us away on walks through Haxey, visiting the park and the post office for some sweet delights. But our favourite moments were spent atop the walls of neighbouring village gardens, hand in hand, jumping off with laughter. We’d go for walks by the bridge on the top road, down the old railway tracks and she’d tell us all kinds of stories about it. Those were the moments when life felt truly magical.

Nanna was young at heart and loved collecting porcelain dolls, and we all remember playing with the toys she had stashed away in the back bedroom for when we’d come to visit. The girls all remember playing with the blue pushchair, pushing it around whilst she’d be clipping and pruning her plants and flowers. She loved her garden, and in the summer months she’d involve us all in gardening.

The fire at Nanna's was always ablaze, and her care knew no bounds. Beds were pre-warmed with hot water bottles, ensuring we were toasty warm. A cup of Horlicks before bed became a sleepover ritual, a comforting treat to sweet dreams.

Weekends were filled with the delightful aroma of toasting bread over the fire. The milking stool became our breakfast perch, where melted butter turned simple toast into a delicacy. Our fondest memories were sharing these moments with Nanna.

Nanna was not only a creator of memories but also a healer of wounds. Her extraordinary first aid kit, complete with the magical touch of butter, seemed to possess the power to mend any bump or bruise. It was in her care that we always found solace and comfort.

 

Glen, the pop man, brought fizzy delights to Nanna's doorstep - cream soda, raspberry aid, dandelion and burdock, lemonade, and her favourite, peppermint cordial. As we grew older, Nanna introduced us to baby shams and her potent homemade plum wine.

Nanna's kitchen was a hub of creativity. Beaded jewellery-making sessions with Granny Rose and Nanna were treasured times, filled with laughter.  Nanna's nimble fingers flew over knitting needles, producing an array of cardigans, jumpers, teddy bears, dolls' clothes, blankets, and more - a testament to her skill and love.

Her apron was a constant, worn with pride as she indulged her passion for making and baking. The famous plum loaf, especially at Christmas, was a side hustle that brought joy to many. Silver foil-wrapped loaves lined the hallway, a testament to Nanna's generosity and kindness.

Nanna's garage freezer was a treasure trove of frozen fruits, leading to a rainbow of jams - strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, plum, and gooseberry. Her entrepreneurial spirit shone through with chutneys, piccalilli, pickles, and pickled onions, creating a bustling side hustle in the village.

A doorway filled with sacks of vegetables was a testament to Nanna's commitment to providing for her family and community. Visits to Nanna's always ended with a special gift - be it vegetables, jams, or handmade creations.

Bus trips were another adventure with Nanna. Scotland holds memories of kilts, whiskey tours, and accidental sips of the golden spirit. Blackpool illuminations brought joy, and Nanna's love for collecting trinkets ensured every trip ended with a new spoon, thimble, teapot, or a cheeky souvenir.

Scunthorpe market visits were incomplete without a treat at the bus stop café. Nanna's laughter echoed as we slurped milkshakes and getting a gentle telling off for being noisy. The little roundabout on market day was a special treat if luck was on our side.

Nanna loved all creatures, great and small, with a special fondness for her dogs. Whenever you visited or called her, the first thing you'd hear was the dog barking, followed by Nanna telling the dog off for barking. There was always a bowl of biscuits and pork pies by the fire, ensuring her furry friends received the royal treatment, often claiming the sofa as their own. Although she dreamed of having a pot-bellied pig in her garden, her bungalow wasn't suitable. Nonetheless, her sideboards were filled with pig ornaments she had lovingly collected over the years. 

Nanna's distinctive red hair, styled in her trademark bun, was a symbol of her vibrant personality. Even her hair colouring sessions became a source of amusement, her head over the sink a comical sight.

At Nanna's house, time seemed to slip away unnoticed as we were having had endless fun. However, you would be reminded of the hour by the hour with the numerous musical clocks she had all over her walls in her living room.

Nanna's laughter echoed through the village of Haxey, where she was the heart and soul. She knew everyone, and her warmth was contagious.

As we bid our final farewell, let us remember Nanna with love and gratitude. Nanna, we love you more than words can express, and we will miss you dearly. Thank you for all the memories, the laughter, and the love. Until we meet again, Tattie bye, Toodle Pip, and know that we love you more than the whole wide world.

With love and fond memories,

Your grandchildren and great-grandchildren