Good afternoon all. On behalf of my family, I would like to share with you a few words about my mother, AnneMarie, and in doing so lead us in the first of many, many toasts today that celebrate her wonderfully colourful life. In the tradition of this great woman, I will keep my ramble short and sweet: I’ll use facts with artistic license if it makes for abetter tale; I will jump from A to C without pause at B; I may use the occasional swearwords or two; and of course I will finish by lifting a glass of scotch.

But before I do, I’d like to take a moment to express my family’s gratitude to everyone who has been there for us over the 18-months or so. You cannot know how much of a difference you have made - your kindness, love, and often sense of humour have made a very difficult period for my family just a little more bearable. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

It was last year, on a non-descript Sunday afternoon in autumn that AnneMarie first asked whether I would be willing to speak at her farewell party. I missed the significance of this request and instead came back with a witty reply:“AnneMarie, you old bird, my whole life you’ve told me that it’s only the good that die young. If that’s true, then we still have time aplenty!” I laughed. She didn’t. She probably called me a “Jerk” or worse. It´s only today as I stand here and attempt to put into concise words just how much we love her and how much she will be missed, that I realise that AnneMarie is having the last laugh. For there just aren’t enough words, mom. You are too unique; your personality is too big; your star burns too bright. We will never see another one like you. So, chapeau Grape Lady! You got me! 

AnneMarie, AnneMarie, AnneMarie…You set off on your journey to a better place earlier than expected. Why the rush? We could have watched more rugby together! We could have traded more incivilities! We could have finished one more bottle of scotch! Why the rush Grape Lady?(Pause)I am not angry, mom. Not at all. It´s only that if we had all the time in the world left, I would still want one more hour so you could tell me the story of Ines Nowack and the stray baseball bat. You know, for old time’s sake! Netflix be damned - let’s see how the story ends in this telling. 

Que sera, sera! Whatever will be, will be. Que sera, sera! has been something she has been telling me my whole life: usually whenever we arrived at a crossroad. On reflection, I’m not sure it has always been the best advice – again see me later for more details - but during life’s big moments, the one’s that really matter, it’s a small bit of wisdom that has and continues to serve me well.(Pause)Que sera, sera! As AnneMarie’s departure date drew nearer and nearer, we found ourselves reciting this eternal logic more frequently. I think it allowed us to make sense of a futile set of circumstances, and in doing so move past our anger, our pain, our frustration and fully focus on the now. For this I will be forever grateful for some of the fondest memories I have of AnneMarie -memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life - were forged only recently when our family was confronting one of its darkest hours.

As many of you know, in her own unconventional way, AnneMarie is a spiritual woman. She believes that this “life” is only part of a persons journey. On many occasions she told/ threatened us that that we should expect visits from her once her journey on earth had been completed. For many years I never knew what to make of this. A few hours before she was to set sail, I was sitting in the hospice cafeteria deep in my own thoughts - I was contemplating what our new reality will look and feel like, when our AnneMarie would no longer be here with us. I was wrenched out of my mental fog by an Irish melody being performed on a worn accordion. It was a melody to a song which I knew well for AnneMarie would often sing it to me when I was a baby in her arms and would remind me of its lyrics at many stages of my life. Its gentle performance was a beautiful reminder that AnneMarie had promised, no matter what, she will always be here, in sunshine or in shadow. When the song finished, I knew that AnneMarie would soon be on her way. And whilst the world would be a little less colourful from now on, everything was going to be OK, for she will always be close. 

I would be doing AnneMarie a disservice if in this toast to her life I didn’t stop and briefly reflect on the love she holds for her husband and soul mate, Anthony. Anthony, when you met AnneMarie in Hamburg in May 1993, you reignited a flame which had briefly dulled. From this chance encounter you were to go on together to conquer the world, building loving homes for my sisters and I. I know it weighs heavily on AnneMarie’s heart that you will now need to go on and continue to conquer the world without her. That wasn’t the plan but then AnneMarie’s life never did follow a plan. In the dark moments ahead, I hope you remember that she has always believed in you and trusted you to find a way when seemingly there was none. I hope you draw strength from the good times you shared, and trust that happier days still lie ahead of you. Whilst we can never replace the great leady that was AnneMarie, please know that Joanne, Jackie, and I will be there for you, to pull you along. 

I promised I would keep this intervention short and sweet. I sense I am quickly outstaying my welcome. But worse I am keeping you from the bar: AnneMarie wouldn’t be happy and I certainly don’t want her to come back and haunt me.(Pause)So how do we go on from here? Let us not grieve for too long but instead count ourselves fortunate that our paths had crossed the wonderful AnneMarie. Let us celebrate today the way she would have wanted. Let us remember her not just in memory and in words, but in actions that pay tribute to the life she lived:- Never pass over an opportunity for a good party;- Try to make every social interaction a memorable one;- Don’t take anything too seriously; and- Remember “Que sera, sera” - whatever will be, will be. Please raise your glasses and join me in toasting a wonderful and beautiful woman, who many of you know as AnneMarie, but my sisters and I have been privileged to call Mom.

Go well, old bird on your voyage through the stars! Until we meet again.