Aline Glenda Ford (6 Nov 1936 - 25 Apr 2023)

Gladly, leaving a donation to Cat's protection in your name

Donations made at the funeral

In memory of Glenda, with our love, Marian and Andrew

meeow, and thank you, on behalf of cats everywhere

May happy memories of Glenda bring you all comfort at this sad time. Clare and Myles Finn x

ALINE GLENDA FORD
6 November 1936 to 25 April 2023
Delivered by Giles

Firstly, on behalf of all the family, I’d like to thank everyone for the cards and messages of support we’ve received over the last few weeks, and, in particular, thank you all for coming along today to say goodbye to mum and to help celebrate her life.
Aline Glenda Ford – invariably ‘Glenda’ to everyone who knew her – was born at the Bovington Army Camp hospital near Wool in Dorset, on 6th November 1936. Her father Ernest Edward Groves (known in the Army as ‘Mango’) was serving in the Royal Tank Corps at the time, as he had done for some years and as he continued to do during the Second World War in Africa and Italy and, following his return to England, he then served in the Army Police, primarily looking after the security of the Army base at Chilwell, near Nottingham.
Where mum lived in her childhood years was therefore, inevitably, influenced by her father’s army career. When WW2 broke out, she went with her mother Lily, along with mum’s cousin Ian Sylvester (whose father was also in the army) and Ian’s mother, to live with Lily’s parents in Tadcaster, West Yorkshire. Mum must have been about 3-4 years old at this point.Ian has written us a lovely letter, talking of his and mum’s early days when, despite the inevitable worries about the war and their fathers being caught up in it, he recalls many happy childhood adventures in Tadcaster, often in or around the River Wharfe, with the family dogs ‘Sherry’ and ‘Pixie’
After the War, mum moved with her parents to Williams Road, Chilwell where, I believe, her parents stayed until ‘Mango’ retired. While there, in the early 1950’s, mum went to work in the offices of Nottingham University, where I imagine her meeting a charming, if probably mildly eccentric, chemistry student - Mr (soon to become Dr) Raymond Eric Ford. The rest is history – Eric and Glenda (who both, curiously, favoured their middle names) married on 29th August 1957 at St Mary’s Church, Attenborough, in Nottingham, moved down to Bredgar, where Cedar Cottage in Blind Mary’s Lane was to be their home for the rest of their married life together - and over the next five years or so were blessed (if that’s the word) with the arrival of Tim, me, Toby and Simon, in that order. Toby beat Simon to it in by a short head, so to speak – and incidentally, mum had been completely unaware she was having twins, until she heard the midwife’s fateful words ‘hang on, Glenda, I think there’s another one’.
Having, at one time, four boys all under the age of five must have tested mum’s patience and energies to the limit. I could say ‘I’m sure we were no trouble’, but I won’t insult your intelligence…. What I would say is that I should think Mum had to develop (rapidly) the combined skills of a nurse, chef, master diplomat, peacekeeper, zookeeper, boxing referee and high court judge. I don’t recall her often having to shout or raise her voice aggressively, or ever becoming unduly physical – but if pushed she would, Simon recalls, unleash ‘The Look’ – the look that told you, as plainly as you needed to be told, that you were to behave yourself. So you did.
Her diplomatic career was nicely illustrated by her handling of the Great Penguin Wars of the 1970’s – I’ll leave you to guess who the four main warring parties may have been. In those days, Brian the Betabake man would turn up with weekly deliveries of bread, cake and the like (and stepping into his van was like entering a sweet shop with all your favourites around you – such as Wagon Wheels, Tunnocks Caramel wafers….and chocolate Penguin biscuits, in their packets of 6, with assorted shiny wrappers of red, blue or green.
Needless to say, four competitive lads all wanted their favourite colour and increasingly noisy arguments became regular tea-time occurrences. Rather than calling in the UN Peacekeeping Force, or International Rescue, Mum disposed of the whole conflict at a stroke by the simple expedient of plonking the whole plateful of Penguin biscuits onto the tea table – with those coloured wrappers already removed – and a gentle invitation to us to try to find something to argue about in THAT. She had a point (although I happen to know the green ones did definitely taste better than the rest…or maybe the blue…?)
Between them, mum and dad created and maintained a kind, stable, caring, supportive and pleasant home environment, for which all of us are eternally grateful. I – and all of us – have so many happy memories of growing up at Cedar Cottage, and it has been a happy place to return to in adulthood .
And then came the cats.
It started one Good Friday when a little black cat – promptly christened Friday – turned up in our hayshed, asked for sight of the menu and the sleeping quarters, indicated that ‘we would do’ and moved in. He was followed rather swiftly by ‘Fizz’ (a Siamese who hissed a lot), and soon the feline battalions were building up. Animals – and most especially cats - were undoubtedly one of mum’s great passions and pleasures in life. What with breeding and successfully showing numerous exotic - and sometimes apparently quite rare - strands of Siamese - Tortie points, Red points, Lilac points and so on, and looking after other people’s cats while they were away, on top of all her ’rescues’ and other family cats, we guess that there could easily have been 30-40 cats on the premises at times. Visitors could hardly believe their eyes as feline heads poked out from the boxing around the overhead hot water pipes in the kitchen, or even out of the Rayburn stove – believe it or not, she would leave the door off the warming oven so that cats could sleep in there… She could rarely resist a plea for her to take in a ‘rescue’ cat. Tim recalls she would sometimes joke about there being a sign at the top of our driveway saying ‘stray animals welcome’.
It was plainly true that she gained much pleasure from the company of her pets, particularly in her later years. Dodger, the meekest miniature schnauzer in existence, completed the rollcall after all kinds of previous dogs – ranging from Great Danes to a rescued whippet, boxers and, the earliest that I recall, Humbug and Fudge, who were lovely but about which, all I can tell you is that one of them was a cross between something and something else, and the other (its offspring) was apparently an ‘accident’. She cared about and enjoyed horses and ponies throughout her life. Fiona, her ancient pony, lived with us at Cedar Cottage for many years and stoically put up with giving rides to us and, occasionally, guests at childhood birthday parties. More recently, I would sometimes try to coincide my visits to her at Chippendayle Lodge with an ITV racing broadcast, and it wasn’t unknown for us to share a cheeky G&T, while we watched the racing, and I explained why my horse wasn’t winning.
She is survived by 7 much loved grandchildren – Katy, Chris, Amy, Isobelle, Imogen, Dan and Bruce, who all thought the world of her and, of all of whom, as she so often said, she was very proud. And, just this year, it was clear to all what an enormous pleasure it was for her to be introduced to her two first great-grandchildren – Reuben and Evelyn.
In later years, once Dad had retired and her cat-related activities were winding down, mum seemed generally content with the quiet, home-based life. In earlier times, however, she and Dad very much enjoyed their social life. Dad was heavily involved in the Round Table and 41 Club for many years and mum with its counterpart the Ladies Circle, of which she was the Area Chairman at one time and through which she made many long-lasting friendships. Their National Conferences would sometimes be in Blackpool and evidently made for happy memories, as she would invariably talk about their visits to the famous Ballroom there, whenever ‘Strictly’ (a regular Saturday night TV fixture for her) was approaching its ‘Blackpool’ week.
By the time Dad died in 2016, mum was already suffering from several serious medical problems - or, as she would dismissively tend to put it, ‘things kept falling off’. She stayed at Cedar Cottage for as long as it was possible – and safe – for her to do so, and we did whatever we could think of to facilitate that – but eventually she had to move out and, after a brief spell at Hengist Field at Borden, she spent her final couple of years at Chippendayle Lodge in Harrietsham, her room having a patio door with views out to the rear courtyard where she could enjoy whatever wildlife – including the odd passing cat – that happened to appear.
With her mobility becoming more limited and signs emerging of the early stages of dementia, her final years were, especially during ‘lockdown’, relatively quiet and she became something of a crossword and reading fanatic.
She had been battling her various conditions – which included heart and circulation problems, diabetes, arthritis and dementia – for some years, but battling them cheerfully and, typically, would always play them down whenever the subject came up. There was always a beaming smile when you put your head round the door to visit – unless she was fast asleep of course.
In April this year she unfortunately had to be admitted to Maidstone Hospital with a serious infection and related complications. It was clear she was frail and struggling, so we urged the staff to make sure she would remain comfortable and, when she slipped away on Tuesday 25th April she was peaceful, seemingly in no pain and with as many as half a dozen family members – including all four sons – in attendance to say goodbye.
To finish, a few random personal thoughts and memories that Tim, the twins and I have mentioned during our recent conversations:
Mum and Dad’s record collection shows they enjoyed a variety of music tastes – and by the way, the song we’ve chosen to play in a moment for ‘reflection’ isn’t particularly reflective in itself, but it’s one that all four of us recall as being one of her favourites and one that reminds us of her.
As I mentioned earlier, Mum and Dad met when she worked at Nottingham University. I later studied there myself and when Mum and Dad came up for graduation, we went for a nostalgic wander around the campus. I’m sure I saw them pause outside a particular window in the Trent Building, where many of the offices were, whisper a bit to each other and exchange smiles – I never did ask what memories it had evoked, but it was lovely to see.
I got the impression she was happy to experiment in her cooking – opportunities for which were perhaps more limited in the 1970’s shops than in today’s exotic food courts. I recall her compiling the first ever curry the household had seen, but I’m afraid I personally found the smell so weird that it put me off Indian food for several years. Her other specialities were far more successful, however and are fondly remembered in the family – mandarin meringue rice, ginger oatcake, sausage bean feast and chocolate do-dads being just a few of the memorable names to conjure with.
I mentioned animals earlier, but how about this for being a little different?:
mum and dad spent their Honeymoon in the Lake District – quite normal. They travelled there by train. Fair enough – but, they took her horse with them….on the train. Their photo albums show them ambling around Ambleside - and elsewhere - in an old-style horse-drawn gypsy caravan.
Her quiet, unassuming generosity is a recurring memory for us – Toby mentions how, if ever friends had come up to Blind Mary’s Lane to play at our house, she’d always seem to be able to find another place at the tea table for any ‘extras’ and enough food in the pot, all with minimum fuss
Coping with 4 robust lads under 5 y o would have prepared her for most alarms I imagine. This was fortunate, when she found herself the passenger in my first attempt to move (I hesitate to say drive) a motor car. It was in our blue Renault 5. I got into the driver’s seat, as a joke. She suggested that I may as well take it up to the top of the drive, showed me where to switch on and which pedal was which. My foot slipped on the clutch, I panicked, swivelling the steering wheel wildly and the car rocketed sideways ACROSS the drive and buried itself in the huge bush next to the outside porch of the house – which I guess was preferable to the porch itself. What she was thinking I have no idea (she could be extremely tactful!), but her outward reaction, when extracting the poor Renault from the undergrowth, was remarkably understated. She reacted as if nothing had happened.
Mum had many skills and capabilities, but dedicated herself first and foremost to her family. Sheila Bishop, a friend of mum’s right back to Ladies Circle days, very kindly emailed us and said this:
“I remember her as serene, beautiful, kind, thoughtful and a good friend, intelligent, and capable in her own quiet way. She loved you all her family so much and we were blessed to have known her.” She refers to having had so much ‘fellowship and fun’ with such a large group of friends, so many of them sadly no longer alive, and she continues: “Glenda coped so admirably well with her four young boys, and the cats and Eric – we were in awe!”
My apologies if I have spoken for too long – I hope not. I’ve found it isn’t easy to distil a whole lifetime’s thoughts and memories into a few paragraphs, but I hope I have been able to get across sufficiently the extent of our love and our appreciation for everything Mum, and Dad, did for us.
Thank you, mum - for your kindness, your tolerance, your modesty (ever insisting that you ‘didn’t want a fuss’), for being great fun to be with, for always being there when needed and, in those ways and many more, for being a wonderful example to us. Thank you - and rest in peace.

Grandma, you will be greatly missed by everyone in the family. Given how much you helped Cats Protection in life and your love of cats, there isn't another charity better suited to this donation in your memory. Lots of love Katy and Evelyn xxx