#540, Margaret (Marnie) Elizabeth TURNER

The announcement of her death in The Daily Telegraph of 12th June 2017 said:

COBBOLD. - Marnie (nee Turner) died peacefully on 6th June 2017 aged 82 at the Pinewood Nursing Home Chidham, Nr Chichester. Adored mother of Tim, Humphrey and Jeremy; much loved grandmother of Hannah, Johno, Jack, Esther, Oli, Lucy, Jude and Nell; and wonderful mother-in-law to Carolyn, Nicola and Oenone. She knew no bounds to the help, guidance and support she offered as a life-long teacher, charity worker, friend and even patient. Funeral at St James' Birdham on June 20th at 1.30pm.

Tim's tribute on behalf of his siblings to his mother.

It is with devastating sadness that I stand here on behalf of Humphrey and J, to recall Mum's life and to pay tribute to her.  However, despite the sadness I also do so with profound gratitude, an immense pride and an incredible love for an amazing mother, grandmother to our children, and the matriarch of our family.

Mum you had the gift of giving without asking for anything in return.

As her grandchildren have just told us, in a poem they chose themselves, and which sums up Mum so well -what will matter is what you taught.  And Mum, you were a teacher - you taught something to nearly everybody in this church today whether it was the importance of selflessness, or of courage, or the value of patience and sacrifice, or of what can be achieved with determination and a sense of humour.  You taught as you lived and you lived as you taught.

You were always there for us.

Margaret Turner - always known as Marnie - was born in Cambridge in 1935 - the 5th of 6 children.  Happily, both her brothers, Robin and David, are here today.  Sadly, Mum was the last of the four Turner girls, so if she's together with her sisters Jennifer, Gill and Lindy, by now I would expect the wine to be open and both the laughter and the arguments to have started.  It is lovely that Mum's sisters are represented here through Holly, Sarah, Rebecca and James.

Marnie's father, J W Cecil Turner, was a renowned lawyer, intellectual and Cambridge academic who played first class cricket for Worcestershire.  He had fought in World War One, was awarded a Military Cross but never collected it as he didn't like celebrating war.  Mum adored him and I don't think it is hard to see where the seeds of the self-effacement, modesty and selflessness that so defined Mum's character came from.

Her mother, Beatrice, a much loved grandmother to sixteen grandchildren and a former nurse from Dawlish in Devon was a quietly formidable personality - well maybe not so quietly as I recall Mum and Lindy rather naughtily, and perhaps unfairly, describing her as the dragon one Christmas!

Marnie and her siblings lived and grew up in Girton Corner, a house their father built opposite Girton College in Cambridge.  I suspect there was never a dull moment.  There were always people coming and going - academics, undergraduates, friends, boyfriends, girlfriends - just as you would expect of a large loving family.  Of course, even when no one was visiting there were still six siblings and I think it would be fair to say that amongst all the fun that is family life there was always a degree of competition.  I remember croquet competitions on the immaculately maintained lawn - in fact what I really remember was that the role of the grandchildren was to surreptitiously cheat on behalf of  the "I'm not competitive" parents.

What was never in doubt was that the girls - the Turner Girls - not as infamous as the Mitford Girls I am pleased to say - had been brought up to stand their ground and argue their corner - and argue they could and argue they did!  In many ways they were in the vanguard of the emancipation of women - it's hard to believe just how much social change there has been in Mum's lifetime.  Girton Corner was always a special place for Mum - it was her home, a centre of gravity - as I think it was for the rest of the family - she was so pleased to see the pictures we took when Carolyn and I visited it only in April - mind you she was less pleased to see that the wisteria had been removed!

Because of the nature of Grandpa's contribution to the war effort the family was evacuated to the United States - they survived the crossing, fortunate in itself, and spent the rest of the war in New England.  At least 50 years later Mum came on holiday with us to Orlando - we were doing the Disney trip with the children.  I was a little apprehensive about navigating Mum through US Immigration as she was more than capable of making jokes in that no joke environment.  So I told her in no uncertain terms that she was to simply answer questions, no more, no less.  So when the immigration officer asked her if she had ever been to the United States before she of course just said yes.  'When was that Mam?' he asked - oh about fifty years ago she said with a dead pan face.  He nearly fell off his chair but she was through with a huge smile.  Mum always had a keen sense of humour.

She went to Cheltenham Ladies College - hence Humphrey's adapted poem that you heard earlier.  Mum and I always examined the College Guild magazine when it arrived to catch up on what was happening to the people who were at school with her - she was always interested in what people were doing.  The famous school taught her well, both academically - quite useful if you are to be a teacher - and in life skills and above all manners - she was always a bit of a stickler for manners (well that and eating vegetables).  The school was also very strict about deportment - now deportment has rather gone out of fashion but those years gave Mum an incredibly strong core something that was to serve her so well in the latter stages of her life, as her physios would attest.

Speaking of strength, Mum was always strong in mind and body.  As a friend of David's wrote on hearing of her death; "the girl with beautiful eyes fresh back from Cheltenham....even at that age she had the firm jaw and lips of a strong personality".  Robin and David used to joke that they had to reach their twenties before they could really take her on in a physical contest.  I am assured that at a relatively young age she had a left hook that Mohamed Ali would have been proud of and one that David never really learned to handle.  The funny thing is that right now I think David would quite like to be on the receiving end of it again.

Mum studied for her undergraduate degree in geology and geography at University College London.  She kept wonderful notes and Humphrey, who also studied Geology at university regularly used them 30 years later - possibly because he hadn't been to the lectures.  She chose teaching as her profession and I often wonder if she knew it was to become the defining purpose of her life.  When I told her that Hannah, her eldest grandchild had qualified as a teacher she wept openly with joy - she loved it when I referred to Hannah as "a chip off the old block".

Mum did her PGCE at Hughes Hall College Cambridge where she played a lot of sport.  Her physicality had meant she was always a strong sportswoman, taking no prisoners playing hockey at school and she could play cricket too having been taught to bat and bowl by her cricketing father.  When we were growing up playing cricket in the back garden at Leyburn, she insisted we used Grandpa's bat and she bowled a wicked leg spin.  J was the wicket keeper because he was too small to hold the bat which suited Hump and I as we were the glory boys.  Happy Days.  At Cambridge, she excelled at Lacrosse propelled by her strength and fearlessness - remember it is basically aerial hockey.  She won her blue in 1957 and also represented English Universities against the USA.  She was so pleased to give Johno her blue scarf when he won his Hockey Blue 57 years later.

While at Cambridge, Mum met Dad, then a young undergraduate and they were married in Great St Mary's Church in Cambridge. She taught first at Putney Girls High School in London and they later moved to Newcastle-upon-Tyne where I was born.  In 1963 we moved to Kenya, escaping the terrible winter of 62/63, when Dad got a new job.  It was an exciting adventure, the flight alone involved 4 stops for refuelling or plane changes, it was post colonial Africa, the Great Rift Valley and a culture somewhat different to Tyneside.  Mum loved it and they were very happy times.  We were there for 2 and a half years during which Humphrey, who was Mum's very own white kikuyu arrived.  We brought back many happy memories, pictures and artefacts that were always part of Mum's homes thereafter.  Mum needless to say taugh - I have recollections of her singing the song the children sang on their way to school - Kili Kili Kili Kilimanjaro...it went.

After Kenya we returned to the UK and Dad's work took us via Bristol (and Rockside Drive - do you remember Dad?) to the delightfully named Abercrombie Place in Stirling, Scotland.  Mum of course continued to teach and despite having two young boys also found time to join the 'local wheels on meals' group - the start of a life of the type of unrecognised service to the community that we perhaps don't see enough of these days.

I remember as clear as day the morning in Stirling when Mum told me that my little brother (or sister) was going to come that day and sure enough that evening Jeremy was born - delivered at home in the spare bedroom.  Three boys?  Looking back - at that moment I rather feel the sense and purpose of Mum's life crystallised.  And I know that in all that followed in her life, we were what mattered to her more than anything - and I don't just mean as her unpaid domestic workforce - of which more later!

The family then moved, again for work, to Stafford in the Midlands and life entered what was to become the first of two challenging periods in Mum's life.  After no little acrimony and angst on both sides Mum and Dad divorced. While it took me many years to accept that it takes two to have an argument and to come to terms with the situation, Mum , to her eternal credit never said anything to us threatening our relationship with Dad.

As the mothers among you might most readily appreciate, suddenly being alone, a single mother with three boys - J was only two - is pretty difficult to say the least.  Emotionally, I know she suffered a great deal but that determination came to the fore and she fought back. Amongst other things, she put the Good Life's Felicity Kendall to shame!  She purchased a rotavator and ploughed a large section of the garden - not our cricket pitch I am pleased to say - to grow vegetables.  Of course, she had already produced her small team of unpaid labourers so the three of us became pretty good with that Rotavator!  She was green fingered and bumper crops of potatoes, carrots, cabbage, brussel sprouts, onions you name it sprang forth year after year.  As growing boys you can imagine we were delighted with the surfeit of vegetables - mmm more vegetables.

Chickens were soon added to the back garden and there was no sentimentality as to when they were eaten.  As a result, eggs were always on the menu - Hump and J do you remember eating a loaf of eggy bread at a time?  The only problem was that with chickens came rats for a period they decided to set up home under the chicken huts.  Frankly the three of us were useless - total cowards when it came to rats - so it was Mum who used to take a broom handle and dismiss them.  She was fearless with rats - not that I would want that to be her epitaph.

Talking of rats and being fearless, one morning Mum returned to the house alone to confront a burglar.  Well, all that can be said is that he picked the wrong house.  She scared the living daylights out of him and chased him out of the house - he actually jumped out of a  window to escape Mum in full flow which I suspect was a pretty terrifying sight.  Anyway, her description and testimony was more than enough for him to be caught, convicted and imprisoned for a series of offences.  I don't think he will do that again!

Her teaching career continued and she became distinguished at what might be called the more difficult end of the spectrum, teaching children in care, first at a girls residential school in Stafford and later boys at a National Children's Home in Congleton, Cheshire.  These were children who had had unbelievably difficult upbringings, sometimes there had to be a security guard in the classroom. Mum's no nonsense, consistent and fair approach, her intolerance of both bad manners and bad language and most importantly an ability to make a connection with the children won her near universal respect, even amongst the most difficult.  Not many can do this and when I asked why she did it she always said it was worth it if you can make a difference to one of them.  I believe that this was the work that mattered most to Mum and some of her former pupils remained in contact with her long after she retired. One, Paul came to see her at our house and in Pinewood and is here today.  Thank you for coming Paul.

During this period, as the three of us were away more at school or university, Mum left Stafford and moved to Congleton to be nearer work.  The unpaid workforce was again deployed and we learned how to fit Gyproc coving, lay cork tiles and decorate to Mum's exacting standards.  By now Carolyn, who was to become the daughter she never had, was around and she too was pressed into action - it wasn't quite "hello - nice to meet you - could you help lay those cork tiles please?" - but it wasn't that far off!  The move to Congleton marked the end of that first challenging period and Mum had won through - Mum always won through - she built a new life with many good friends and some strong and meaningful relationships.  Life was properly and fully back on track.

Thankfully in the late 80s, Mum was able to retire early and she decided to move to Devon.  She settled in Stokenham, near Kingsbridge, not so far from where her mother had come from and close to Exeter where Robin and Jennifer were based.  She was so very happy in Devon and had many friends there.  I used to call her from the car every Friday on my way home from work.  I would call at the top of the A3, by the M25, and quite often she was still telling me what had been happening when I got home an hour and a half later.

In 1986 Carolyn & I took Mum and Carolyn's mother, Chris, to China, an exciting adventure to a country which had only just opened up to foreign visitors.  I have such happy memories of us exploring the Forbidden City, climbing the Great Wall of China, being amazed by the Terracotta Warriors and sailing down the three Gorges on the Yangtze River.  We have a lovely picture of Mum and Chris nattering away over a cup of Chinese Tea on a soft sleeper train en route to Wuhan and Xian.  It was the trip of a lifetime and Mum was in her geographer's element.  She was in her element in another way too.  Mum always managed money well, it's a Turner family characteristic - they all have an eye for a bargain.  Well, the Chinese have always been great traders and hagglers but I am not sure whether they had  ever encountered a Turner on their home territory before, and certainly not Mum!  She was ready for a ten minute haggle to save two pence even if they weren't.  Every encounter produced the same result - Mum 1 - Chinese Trader 0.

Now when Mum moved to Devon she 'threw' herself into life becoming a formidable stalwart of the local Citizens Advice Bureau - CAB - combining that sharpness with money with her willingness to fight for the weak in society.  She became a highly efficient debt counsellor.  She never flinched, in fact I think enjoyed, getting one over on the credit card companies, the banks, HP agents or whomever and negotiating on behalf of her 'clients' from CAB.  Over time she developed a thorough understanding of the benefits systems, the laws of consumer credit and the obligations on businesses.  She knew how to use the system for the good of those who didn't.

In her early 70s she sensibly felt that she wanted to be a bit closer to "her boys" and the growing 'army' of grandchildren = she was already rather proud of leading the family grandchildren numbers competition!  So, she moved again in 2006, this time to live in an annexe to our house.  She quickly became involved in life in Sussex and the theme of helping people continued as she became a valued British Legion 'case officer'.  They were such happy days, special ones for us all.  She was able to live a totally care free life - the one she deserved having worked so much for others.

Then in November 2011 the stroke that brought the second period of challenge in Mum's life happened and in March 2012 she moved to Pinewood, a place that became her home, where she felt safe, loved and cared for.  Despite all the adversity, her life didn't stop, in many ways it blossomed, her strength, determination, warmth and sense of humour became more pronounced.  It showed through in her commitment to the weekly physio sessions with Becky and Lisa.  She would often demonstrate to me the shoulder rolls, back straightening and finger stretching exercises she had been given.  At one stage she improved enough to be able to stand again - she was so pleased with herself.  She developed a near mother-daughter relationship with Emma, her speech therapist - they were something of a mutual admiration society.  As Emma, who can't be here wrote "I absolutely adored Marnie.  I have never met someone with so much fierce determination to live a joyful life in the face of so many challenges.  I will always treasure the sight of her beaming smile greeting me when I arrived and her even bigger smile when I asked her about you all and she told me your news.  I think the only time we came close to disagreeing about anything was when I suggested we make a therapy task a bit easier and Marnie would insist on pursuing the challenge!  I hope I was able to provide her with enough support to equal what I learnt from her."

And what can i say about the nurses and carers at Pinewood?  They are stars.  We are so grateful to them for making it possible for the final phase of Mum's life to be as fulfilling as it became.  My sense is that she developed special and unique relationships with many of them; relationships built on her capacity to be a teacher, to be a listener - after all when you can't talk you have to listen better - and on her sense of humour and warmth.  But I think her determination and courage also earned their respect.  Shortly after Mum's stroke her sister Lindy, with whom Mum had enjoyed so many good times nearly always involving at least one bottle of wine, sent a message to her - No Surrender - it said.  it was something of a calling card between them and it characterised  how Mum responded.

We shouldn't underestimate the scale of the challenges she faced but she found the strength, courage and positivity to take them on.  In so many ways Mum won through - Mum always won through in the end - her five years at Pinewood where she made new friends, continued to see her family, became ever more the family matriach, mastered the art of a motorised wheelchair, got to know the local pub and witnessed hundreds of stunning sunsets and sunrises over Chichester Harbour were far from a postscript, rather an important final chapter in Mum's life.

Those sunset years were in some ways her great legacy where the whole point of it came together - she carried on being the sublime and subliminal teacher she always was - teaching us all never to give up, to enjoy life whatever it throws up at you, to keep a sense of humour and as he grandchildren have said, showing us that, in the end, 'what will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage or sacrifice that enriched , empowered and encouraged others.'

So many people have written to say what a good friend Mum had ALWAYS been, both in the good times when her sense of humour meant she was such fun to be with and when times were difficult and she was there to help then through.  She taught as she lived and she lived as she taught.

Mum, you lived a long and full life - you asked for so little and gave so much - we have everything to be grateful for and there is so much to celebrate.  We will always love you and keep you with us, just as you were always there for us.