Margaret's memorial. You're viewing as Lily, granddaughter.
From Liverpool in 1941 to today. Swipe along the years.
Childhood
Born in Liverpool on 12 March
I was born in the March, right in the middle of the bombing. Mam used to say I came out shouting louder than the sirens. I don't remember the war of course, but I remember the shelter at the end of Smithdown Road because we kept going down there for years after, just to play. It smelled of damp and paraffin. My brother Eddie told me ghosts lived in it and I believed him until I was about 9.
Every Sunday Mam made scouse in the big black pot and it lasted till Tuesday. You put in whatever you had, a bit of neck of lamb if you were lucky, potatoes, carrots, onions. The secret is you let it catch a bit on the bottom. I still make it the same way. Lily, you asked me once for the recipe and I told you there isn't one, you just keep tasting.
Young woman
I started my training at 18. The sister on my first ward was terrifying, she could see a crease in a bed from the other end of the corridor. But she taught me that you look at the patient first and the chart second. I've never forgotten that. My feet hurt every single night for the first year.
I met your grandad Arthur at the Cavern Club in 1961. It was packed and hot and he stood on my foot, and instead of saying sorry he said, well that's one way to start a dance. I thought he was cheeky. He walked me to the bus stop and missed his own bus doing it. We were married 2 years later at St Anne's, and it rained the whole day and nobody minded.
Married Arthur at St Anne's
Family
Tom came in 1965, a big lad with a lot to say even then. Arthur was so nervous he went to the wrong hospital first. When Susan came along in 1968 she was the quiet one, always watching. The two of them fought like cats in that little house on Menlove Avenue, but they'd stick up for each other the second anyone else started.
Susan is born
Work
I worked at Alder Hey for 31 years, mostly on the children's surgical ward. You never get used to a poorly child, and you shouldn't. But the ones who got better, oh, the parents' faces. I kept every card they sent me in a shoebox. Some of those babies have got grandchildren of their own now.
Family
Every summer we went to the caravan in Rhyl for a week. It always rained. We played cards, ate chips on the front, and Arthur would insist on a swim in the sea no matter how cold it was. Susan said it was the best week of the year and Tom said it was boring, and then he cried when we left.
Work
Night shifts were a world of their own. At 3 in the morning we'd have tea and toast in the little kitchen and talk about everything. I learned more about life in that kitchen than anywhere. The trick with nights is you never let the children feel the dark. We'd tell stories and hum until they drifted off.
Later years
Lily is born on 20 May
Jack is born
When Lily was about 8 she helped me plant sweet peas along the back fence. She wanted to know the name of every single thing. We did it every spring after that. Lily, love, when the sweet peas come up, that's me saying hello. Jack preferred digging for worms, which is just as important.
Arthur dies, aged 80
After Arthur died in 2019 the house was too quiet. Tom brought me to the rescue centre just to look, he said. There was this scruffy little terrier with one ear up and one ear down, and he just sat on my feet. That was Biscuit. He's a menace and he steals socks, but he got me out walking every day when I didn't want to.
Still telling her stories
