1963 was a newsworthy year with the Great Train Robbery, the Profumo Affair and the arrival of the Daleks. It was also a trendsetting year - The Beatles had their first number one single, Sindy arrived to rival Barbie and the Lava Lamp was invented. 

For us, the best news of 1963 was announced in Cleethorpes on Sunday 14th April. The poem goes that; 

“The child who is born on the Sabbath day Is fair and wise and good in every way.”

That was a fair description and a good start for Amanda Jane. Her journey had begun. 

To live a good and happy life is one thing - to do it with your soulmate is a bonus only some are lucky enough to have. Two paths were about to meet in Bournemouth Ice Rink in Westover Road. It was 12th January 1979. The Village People were at number one with “Y.M.C.A.”, disco was at its peak and the ice rink was the place to hang out. 15-year-old Mandi lived in Westbourne and had gone there skating with some friends. 16-year-old Martyn Forsyth had come into Bournemouth on the train from Brockenhurst with his mates. The two teenagers caught eyes and chatted, and in the days when there were no mobile numbers to swap, it was a trusted “Meet you next Friday” and seven days to wait to see if it happened. It did happen, as it did the following Friday, the one after that and the one after that. There were dates to the cinema on Saturdays, and to the council-run Town Hall disco for under-18s. 

It was inevitable that this perfect match should get married. On 15th September 1984, Martyn’s Scottish background prompted a wedding just north of the border with a horse, a carriage and kilts. Six years of going out had ended and more than 30 years of being married had begun. 

Mr and Mrs Forsyth bought their starter home in Garsdale Close in Bear Cross for £27,500. They chose an avocado bathroom suite, Mandi worked in a care home and Martyn valeted cars. Life was good. The following year, in November 1985, Glenn arrived, but the family of three uprooted and moved to Scotland. An opportunity to join Martyn’s parents’ family business meant it was all hands to the pump for whatever had to be done at The Brockies Lodge Hotel. It was in the tiny village of Kiltarlity, 15 minutes west of the city of Inverness, 15 minutes north of the monster of Loch Ness.The lovely Mandi worked behind the bar and was as happy behind it as in front of it. She was a hit with the locals and enjoyed that job. But the family expanded, and when Glenn was just 14 months old, second baby boy Dirk was born in Raigmore Hospital in Inverness. 

For these two boys growing up, it was an idyllic life. They went to the local school along with the other 23 pupils and two teachers, did the school run with mum Mandi in her VW Golf, listening to The Lighthouse Family, Charles & Eddie, Simply Red and Gabrielle on the way. Mandi was a stay-at-home mum, and a great one, too. 

When his dad became ill, Martyn and Mandi decided running the hotel was not for them, so the hotel was sold, Martyn sold Audis in Inverness and Mandi remained the mum at home with her boys.With an opportunity to move back south, Scotland was swapped for Poole, the grammar school for Glenn and Dirk, homes in Canford Heath, Merley and Upton, with Mandi still opting for being at home for the boys. 

The mothering instinct was natural for Mandi. Even when they were younger, Mandi, being the eldest but also just being Mandi, mothered little brother Jan and put herself in charge. She’d organise him, tell him what to do, took no nonsense and gave him a Paddington Bear stare if anything was wrong. With that look she didn’t need words. But Mandi was doing what she thought was best. She’d guide Jan in the right direction and even in adult life she would be the first port of call when Jan wanted someone to talk to. As he put it, “It was all quite wonderful”. 

Life was good. It was full, together and all about her family and friends. Friends like Dot and Dylan and their kids, Ellie and Teya, going horse riding with Glenn and Dirk and making up their own language. The holiday they all shared in Turkey. Mandi, Martyn, Glenn and Dirk’s three holidays to Tobago, where Martyn cut his finger opening a coconut, fainted and Mandi tried reviving him by sitting on his chest.

In Mandi’s life, all she wanted was for everyone to be happy, which included the whole world. Conflict, politics, racism, homophobia - Mandi just couldn’t understand it. She wanted her boys to do whatever made them happy, proudly seeing Glenn study World Film and European Cinema at Exeter University, and Dirk reading Middle Eastern History at University College London. Weekends might see Glenn and his rugby friends descending on the house in Merley - an open house with a big lawn, sleep-overs, every towel used in the house and a place to clear up when they all disappeared back to Uni on the Monday. Somewhat frustrating for Martyn, but all part of Mandi’s world. 

It was in Dirk’s third year of Uni and a year in Israel that he met Dror. Mandi’s boys’ chosen people, Glenn’s Rachel and Dirk’s Dror, were welcomed into her family exactly the way we would expect Mandi to do. Although a trip to Israel for Dirk and Dror’s wedding was a proud moment, it led to Dirk moving there with Mandi’s warning of “Don’t give up your British passport”. Dirk learned Hebrew, converted to Judaism, took an Israeli passport to be dual with his British one, and found he was conscripted to the Israeli Army for 18 months. Despite Dirk asking Martyn, “Don’t tell Mum”, she had to be told, worried for 18 months and was relieved when all was well, visited Israel several times and was no doubt happy to see Dirk and Dror move to the UK a year ago. 

The song, “A World Of Our Own”, was a very relevant one to Mandi and Martyn. These two teenage sweethearts from the days of Bournemouth ice rink created a world of their own, secrets between them that nobody else knew, just the way soulmates are. The tattoo on Martyn’s arm that says “A World Of Our Own” will always be the link to Mandi’s world. And Mandi’s world was a lovely world, innocent, pink, blonde and girly. Mandi’s was “Fluff World”. 

The cruelty of the real world is that someone like Mandi should not have gone from here. From October 2013, a battle began which has brought us here today. It is unfair, but Mandi faced it with courage, dignity and pink hair, documenting that journey with selfies, Instagram, What’s App and Skype, receiving love, support and gifts from all around the world, and yet again, making her mark. 

And so now it comes a time to continue our lives without Mandi here in person, but to always keep her close for comfort. To remember her piss-taking and banter, to remember with happiness the times when Dirk would climb into bed with her, or the annoying times she would over-cuddle Glenn. To remember with a smile that during a David Attenborough programme about lions, she finally found out that lions were the daddies but tigers weren’t the mummies. To always think of Mandi when you hear Pharrell Williams’ “Happy”, as she flipped music channel to music channel to find the video she loved so much. To remember how she loved her dogs, and keep that connection with Oscar the French Bulldog and Monty the Showbiz Shih Tzu. To remember her poor spelling, her texts with no punctuation, her wonderfully simple and beautiful view of the world, and to sometimes try to live our lives in Fluff World. 

Taking inspiration from Mandi, she can be the support to carry on. Talk about Mandi in a lively voice, think about her when you need the connection, or enjoy those moments when she just pops into your mind and leaves again just as quickly. Those moments are little treasures to keep forever, and Mandi will never feel far away. Mandi would definitely want all of her boys to be OK. She would want lives to continue, with more smiles than tears. 

Feel no guilt in laughter; Mandi would know how much you care, Feel no sorrow in a smile that she’s not here to share, You cannot grieve forever; she would not want you to, She’d hope that you could carry on the way you always do. So, talk about the good mes and the way you showed you cared, The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared, Let memories surround you, and a word someone may say, Will suddenly recapture a me, an hour, a day. That brings Mandi back as clearly as though she were still here, And fills you with the feeling that she is always near, For if you keep those moments, you will never be apart, And Mandi will live forever, locked safely in your heart.

Mandi, You lived your life so well. You will always be remembered for your kindness, your happiness and your gentle, soft and warm self. You can look back on your life with so much pride, at the happiness you gave Martyn, the boys you created and the family that will carry on with you in their hearts. You will remain the glue that sticks them together. Recent times have been tough, but you were so brave and dignified. We will find relief in our hearts that that fight is now over, and you can rest, relaxed, calm again. Mandi, to the living, you are gone, To the sorrowful, you will never return, But to the happy, you are at peace. And if we always think of you, You will never have gone. Rest easy, Mandi, sleep deep, and thank you for everything you were, everything you leave, and for making the world seem a happier, fluffier place.