For those of you who I haven’t met before, I’m Neil’s wife Fiona, and one of Joan’s daughters-in-law. I first met Joan in 1997 so I’ve known her for just over 20 years, perhaps not that long in the grand scheme of things, but she was an integral part of our family life.
Some of my favourite memories of Joan are as a doting grandmother, best known as Nannie, to our sons Max, Felix and Luke. She was the only grandparent they will really remember, but how fortunate we were, to have her with us in amazing health and spirits for so long. Despite her advancing years, what a dedicated, dynamic Nannie she was from the very start, knitting blankets and cardigans, sewing curtains for the boys' bedrooms and taking them out for walks in the pram. 
Nannie was a warm, supportive and cheery presence throughout the boys’ young lives. She would regularly trek across London on the train and bus to stay with us for the weekend, armed with a small suitcase, a bag of treats for all, and buckets of hugs and kisses for her beloved grandchildren. She was always keen to learn a new game or tackle a puzzle, share her artistic skills during a messy painting session, and snuggle up together for a film or a bedtime story. Her infectious laughter would ring throughout the house.
One of Felix’s first memories is of Nannie singing The Runaway Train, while Luke recalls getting up early in the morning to clamber into her bed for a cuddle and chat. Max fondly remembers her stories of a little boy named Jimmy, who went on numerous exciting adventures with his Dad on a motorbike. Added to her many creative talents, Nannie clearly had the makings of a successful children’s author!
She loved to join me on the school run and took a keen interest in everything the boys did, applauding their efforts at assemblies, concerts and sports days, scrutinising their school reports and critiquing their artistic endeavours. She never missed a chance to take part in family activities and days out, from paddling in the sea and catching crabs on the Isle of Wight, to village fetes and trips to the pantomime.
Never one to sit still for long or take afternoon naps, she was always ready to offer us harassed parents a helping hand. She would sew on a button or some Cub Scouts’ badges, mend a well-loved teddy, help label the school uniform, prepare the veg for the Sunday roast, head out to the garden to dead-head the roses or collect some apples and plums to make jam.
She brought history to life with tales of her childhood between the Wars, and gave us and the boys precious insights into how the previous generations lived.
She was also a thoroughly modern Nannie who kept up with the times, miraculously defying the ageing process and managing to look younger as the years went by. This was partly thanks to a sense of dress that reflected her vivaciousness and artistic personality – we all remember her love of trendy, colourful outfits, bold patterns, matching earrings and nails! But also, perhaps most importantly, she stayed young in spirit, with an insatiable curiosity, and an incredible gutsiness and zest for life. She will certainly remain an inspiration to us all - the Nannie that I one day hope to be.