
And just like that her life ended, my darling Mum who deserved so many more years than she got. I thought she’d live forever until she didn’t. I cannot describe the pain and the grief, it seems worse now than when she died on April the 12th.
Dads desperate phone-call on March 31st changed our lives forever. I got to their house before the ambulance. Mum had collapsed on the bathroom floor and all we could do was sit with her until the medical professionals took over. Seeing my Mum lying there, and my Dad so worried broke my heart twice. This is NOT how things should end for such a selfless and loving human being.
After 12 days in hospital where my Dad and I did all we could to be positive around Mum, willing her to recover, she died. She went. She could no longer could hear us and see us and her warmth dissipated forever….
I can’t bear the pain in my heart for them. I’ve always been so stoic, so able to get through the worst of times (and we’ve had a few of those) but I feel myself teetering and choking on a precipice of a dark, bottomless, cavern of grief and disbelief that my gentle mother no longer lives. In my mind she was immortal…
BUT I learned many life lessons from my parents over the past 60 years, and one of them was “persevering” and “getting on with it”. I know I won’t fall into that bottomless cavern as those life lessons have provided a strong safety harness for coping (so please don’t worry) but I won’t deny after several weeks I’m not nearly as strong as I thought I was.
Mum, I think of you every day and feel your spirit around me. I see your smile.
Your loving daughter, Carolyn xxx


I read this at Mum’s funeral:
Thank you all for being here today, and for coming to remember and celebrate my mum, Martha Mary Hyland.
My mum was a truly special person—kind, strong, and endlessly thoughtful. She was the sort of person who always put others first, who never looked for fault, and who chose, again and again, to see the good in people and in life. There was a quiet strength in her, and a gentleness that made you feel safe just being near her.
She found joy in the simple things. She never wanted a fuss or anything extravagant—she was happiest in the everyday moments. Spending time with my dad, finding little treasures at car boot sales and charity shops, and uncovering the history behind a beautiful piece of jewellery or Royal Worcester china. She had such a love for those small discoveries, and such delight in a good bargain.
She also loved her time watching programmes like Bargain Hunt, especially when David Dickinson was on. Those moments, simple as they were, were part of her happiness.
Mum loved nature and animals deeply. She could never bear to see cruelty or suffering, and her compassion extended to every living thing. That kindness wasn’t something she tried to show—it was simply who she was.
To me, my mum meant everything. I loved her more than I can ever truly put into words. And if I could say one thing now, it would be that I wish I had told her that more often.
There’s a line by George Eliot that feels especially fitting:
“I think I can never lose the precious memory of my mother’s face… it seems to me like one of those calm, still faces that one sees in the moonlight, with a quiet light upon it that cannot change.”
Mum was also the most loving grandmother. From the moment her grandchildren were born, she adored them completely. Her love was gentle, constant, and unconditional, and it will stay with them always.
And of course, there was my dad—Hugh. The love of her life. They were truly inseparable, joined at the hip, and theirs was a love that lasted over 65 years. A love that many people spend a lifetime hoping to find. Never a truer love was there.
Mum, we know you always kept your eye on Dad… and we promise we’ll try to do the same.
Mum gave so much to everyone around her—her time, her care, her patience, her love. She never asked for recognition. She simply gave, quietly and selflessly, because that was her nature.
And that is how we will remember her.
In the kindness she showed so freely.
In the quiet strength she carried so gracefully.
In the small, simple joys she treasured—the things that so often mean the most.
We will find her in those moments…
In a hidden treasure discovered where we least expect it,
In the beauty of nature she loved so much,
In the warmth of family, and in the love she leaves behind
I’ll carry you with me…
in the little things, in the love you gave,
and in everything you taught me.
We’ll look after Dad, like you always did.
And we’ll keep you close, always.
Goodbye, Mum.
You will always be in our hearts.
Slán leat, a Mham.
Beidh tú i gcónaí inár gcroíthe.


























