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Mum was first diagnosed with Alzheimers in the late 1990s, though there were signs several years before this.  The illness was such a shame as it put a stop to so many of the activities Mum loved, such as her choirs and theatre outings.  After her retirement from Scott Primary School, Mum took part in the Breakfast drop-in sessions at St Luke's Church.  She was an "Elder" in the church and spent much time visiting many of the elderly people in the church.  She ran the church choir and enjoyed singing in Bedford Choral Society.  Her grandchildren at that time were Catriona and James and they were frequent visitors to her flat for holidays.  All their friends knew "Grandma" as the organiser of good games at birthday parties. 

In her spare time Mum liked to go on cruises with her friend, Jean, or to theatre trips. All these things ground to a cruel halt as the illness progressed.  Finally Mum fell on the ice while out wandering around Bedford.  We never found out where or how she fell but one of the Alzheimer's Society carers found her at home nursing a bruised and broken arm and took her to hospital.  After this she came to stay with me for a short while and then moved to a nursing home in Belfast when Alan and I moved to Cape Town because of Alan's work.

Even in a nursing home Mum liked to wander and managed to escape from several homes.  She finally moved to Ben Madigan, close to Steve's home, and remained there until she died.  The care she received from the nurses at Ben Madigan was excellent and we are very grateful to them for that.

At Mum's funeral, my brother, Steve, provided the following tribute.  As many of Mum's friends were not able to be at the funeral I thought it would be good to share this tribute:

Clementine Morgan or otherwise known as Clem, Mum, Sis or if you were feeling really brave....”Mother”...always guaranteed for a clip round the ear so I guess now I’m safely out of reach....”Mother”  Several words spring to mind when thinking about Mum and three of the obvious ones begin with the letter “F”. 

First up she was Feisty....boy if you got on the wrong side of her she could........be your worst Nightmare. When she was on the rampage she made Attila and his Huns look like a Saga Coach Tour on Prozac.

Secondly is the word “Fizz”. If she had her dander up she could fizz like no one else and she never ever forgot anything...which was a major plus but could also be a huge minus if you got on the wrong side of her.

Thirdly it would be “Fantastic” and she was. A “Giver”, one of life’s “contributors” and a “Champion of Life’s Underdogs and Lost Causes”

Clementine McGill Stewart was born on 6th March 1925 to Jack and Cissy Stewart in Kilsyth, a small town near Glasgow in the west of Scotland. Mum also had a younger brother, my Uncle John who along with his wife, Aunt Helen is with us here today. They were members of the Church of Scotland. She studied at the Kilsyth Academy getting good grades and was all set of a career in banking when alongside millions of others, her life was changed forever with the onset of World War II in 1939.

Though too young to sign up, when she came of age she joined the Women’s Royal Navy, otherwise known as the Wrens, in a number of locations notably HMS Ambrose whereupon her Commanding Office was to note that “Leading Wren 1303 Stewart was of “Very good character and had an above average efficiency”.

On Thursday 22nd February 1945 a  young Petty Officer serving on “HMS Loch More” a Royal Navy Frigate moored at HMS Rosyth went to the Royal Navy Pay Office to query an expenses claim and thus Petty Officer Gwilym Morgan first encountered the now Leading Wren Stewart. An auspicious occasion the aforementioned Petty Officer was later to enter into his Diary as “met a lovely Wren”.

The moral of the tale it would appear would be “Be careful what you wish for!”

Mum and Dad were married in 1949 and Mum then moved to what must have seemed the other side of the World at the time, West Wales, where everything, especially the Anglican Church Services was handled totally in what must have felt like an alien tongue – Welsh. She was never fluent in the language but up until recently could recite parts of the Common Book of Prayer in Welsh!

Perhaps given her lifelong love of music, living in the “Land of Song” wasn’t such a bad deal after all and indeed at the close of this service, the final choral work was one of her favourites.

On 4th June 1954 my little sis Anne arrived and on the 17th May 1958 yours truly appeared on the scene.

In 1963 the family moved to Bedford,England, and the third stage of my mother’s ecclesiastical tour of the UK had begun. Now ensconced amongst the Moravians and Presbyterians of St Luke Church in Bedford my mother also decided to enter the teaching profession as a mature student.  This was a lifelong move which she continued until her retirement in1987.

However in 1977 she was widowed with the untimely death of my Father in July of that year.  With my father being an only child this now meant that ultimately my mother would assume effective responsibility for two families and two sets of parents.  In the early 1980’s both my Scottish grandmother and my welsh grandparents moved to Bedford where my mother in her usual calm and unruffled manner could keep an “eye on all three” from a close proximity.

This was not without its teething problems when, on their arrival in Bedford, my 90 year old Welsh Grandfather decided to go AWOL and was found later that day in the care of the Bedfordshire Constabulary having presented himself at the local Police Station.

Only a Morgan could go to the local Police Station believing it to be a Hotel and try and book a room for the night.

Retirement in 1987 was not enough for my mother and she soon became the driving force behind the Breakfast Drop In Club in St Luke’s Church Bedford run for those fallen on hard times and the homeless. This was to be the way until it some 8 years later she was diagnosed with the onset of Alzheimer’s disease.

In 2002 the family felt that it was in her best interest to move mum to Northern Ireland and hence the fourth and final stage of her ecclesiastical tour of the United Kingdom began with her involvement with the Anglicans of the Church of Ireland in Jordanstown.

So here we are today. With my mother’s illness we knew that this journey would lead here but as with a London Bus we knew we were on a journey, we just never knew when we would arrive.

After many years of causing aggravation, misdemeanours and general mayhem to his parents (especially his mother) what has this errant fifty something learned from it all?

Well, my mother has taught me that being a parent is a lifetime position and not a temporary job. She has also taught (I’m a slow learner) that no matter how dark the hour, how serious the situation you find yourself in or whatever you have done, a mothers love will always be the one true constant throughout it all.

It is given freely and without measure knowing no limits and for that Anne and I say “thank you mum”

Clem Morgan.....you’ve now left us but you will never be forgotten.

“We give her back to you O Lord who first gave her to us.”

Steve