Shirley Oliver (16 May 1933 - 1 Jun 2019)

In loving memory of Shirley Oliver who sadly passed away on 1st June 2019, after a short illness.

Our mother was a strong, intelligent and independent woman who will be sorely missed. Below is the tribute read by us, her children, Martin and Ann-Christine, at her funeral. We hope it gives you an idea of how she lived and of the loving legacy she has left behind.

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Many of you have known my mum for a relatively short period of time from when she settled here with my dad down in Queens Court. And so I’d like to share a few stories - and hopefully surprises - about her life before Westcott...

...you may not know that Mum was, in fact, an Essex girl. Shirley Golightly (a wonderful maiden name) was born in Ilford in 1933 to Marion and Archie, 4 years before her younger sister, Carole, appeared on the scene.

Like her entire generation, the Second World War left a lasting impression on mum. But it wasn’t all about rationing, about birthday cakes made with peanut butter and about Carole trying to eat a banana with the skin on (it was the first time she’d got her hands on such an exotic fruit).

One of mum’s earliest adventures when she, Carole and their cousins, Hazel, Sheila, Malcolm, Pam and Ian were evacuated to Kingsbridge in Devon. There were so many of them that there was one in every class of the village school and mum used to recount tales of the freedom they enjoyed running down country lanes and blackberrying among the hedgerows.

Mum loved her time in Devon but she was also in her element at school. Back in the ‘burbs of Surrey, she passed her 13+ (the 11+ being delayed due to the war) and went to Woking Grammar Schools where soon her love of languages became apparent. Her grandfather used to discuss Latin with her during visits and she never lost her appreciation of it.

For anyone who knew her, it may not come as a surprise that mum was ferociously intelligent and knowledgeable - but it may be a surprise to know how independent she was. In the early 50s, she was one of the few women who went to University. Not only that, but she insisted on moving away to study French in Bristol, rather than living at home and commuting with her father into London as expected.

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And it was here that she began the next chapter of her life. She met our dad, Ron, when she was his secretary and he was one of the Students Union leaders. However, rather than settling down immediately, mum’s love of languages and foreign travel took her to Franco’s Spain for a spot of au-pairing. Then, after graduating, she moved to Sweden with the British Council to teach English to adults and where she became fluent in Swedish. Mum and Dad’s courtship took place at railway stations across Europe over these years but when dad proposed, it was once again time for mum to buck trends - as the couple moved up North to Eccles.

While dad began his academic life at Salford, mum got a job in PR for the coal board. Together they took the extraordinary step of visiting Soviet Russia in the 50s with a group of students, one of the first Western groups since the Revolution, where they tried to outwit their minders and secret police and also tasted vodka - for perhaps the first and last time!

Even when she got married, mum refused to give up her job - a rare thing in the 50s - and it wasn’t until Ann-Christine and myself arrived that mum became a housewife in Sale.

A lack of cash in those years didn’t stop Mum and Dad from travelling. They moved to Waterloo, Ontario in Canada for two years and when they returned to Harborough Rd, bought a caravan. They then embarked on a series of extraordinary family holidays - such as driving a Cortina across the Alps, towing a caravan - without a second thought. During these wonderful summer adventures, mum navigated thousands of miles across Europe with the added pressure of never daring to make a wrong turn as dad was unable to reverse with the ‘van attached.

Our family became complete in Sale with the arrival a loveable mongrel dog - named Bjorn after mum’s Swedish sojourn - but also coinciding with a certain tennis player winning Wimbledon! When not travelling or teaching, Mum also joined the Stretford Choral Society to keep up with the singing that she had enjoyed since school and University days - and which led ultimately to the LadyBirds here.

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Perhaps unsurprisingly, mum’s need for intellectual stimulation soon found an outlet and she returned to work at Wythenshawe FE college, part-time as a French teacher. Things were different then. Mum didn’t have a teaching degree and her probation consisted of her boss, Len, saying after the interview, we’ve got a class now - go in and teach them.

Luckily, mum swam rather than sank and over time moved on to teaching Chinese students with unusual names (like Felix) English as a Foreign Language. Although she never made it to Hong Kong despite numerous invitations, she did make it to ChinaTown in Manchester where we tasted strange, exotic foods that were a far cry from the meals we usually had at home.

The departure of both of us to University led to another fresh start for mum. Having told us that ‘we were leaving home just as we were getting interesting’, mum and dad moved to Bramhall where they set about transforming the garden they loved into a spectacular showpiece.

But that wasn’t all. Together, they also embarked on trips to Europe and beyond, visiting South Africa, and spending time in Australia and New Zealand. Mum’s independent streak was evident in her and dad buying a small house in Thames Ditton (thanks to Carole and John’s local knowledge). This enabled them to be close - but not too close - to us.

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This was important because it was around this time that our families were expanding with the addition of spouses, Edwin and Andrea, followed by the next generation - Claire and Ella, then Katie and Isabelle. The role of doting grandparent was taken by dad, who absolutely loved playing with his grandchildren. Mum took a more background role but was hugely supportive of us as bewildered and often sleep-deprived, new parents. She paid close attention to each of our girls, offering support to them and enjoying time with our cousin, Jane and her daughter, Mirrin in Scotland.

While our families grew up, we grew closer to our parents and we all got together in Dorking, Teddington and further afield. We took to holidaying in Tenerife during October half term and later, we joined mum and dad in Underscar, a part of the Lakes they loved. Until finally, of course, Mum and Dad moved even closer as they shared their lives and the garden with the Harlands at Queens Court - a move that even brought together Ribble and Rusty - the Welsh terrier brothers.

Our mum, Shirley, was a strong woman. She was independent, she had opinions and she wasn’t scared to share them. She overcame many challenges in her life and, we think that her approach to life was influenced by a song from musical she saw with Carole that was entitled Never Look Back.

And so, after looking back at Shirley’s life, perhaps it’s better to take a leaf out of her book and look forward... and when I look at our Mum’s granddaughters, blossoming into the amazing young women they are, I like to think that in many ways, their intelligence, their independence, the great adventures that surely lie ahead are all a reflection of our mum - the bright, independent and strong Shirley - who we will miss so much.