The obituary notice of Joyce Margaret HURRELL (Bickell)

Another of her legacies is the response “alright, Grandma.” Because she wore hearing aids for much of her life she often zoned out of conversations only to chime in with an observation seconds or minutes after someone else had made them. Hence anyone else doing the same in our family gets the response “alright, Grandma.”

I assume my grandad was an early adopter of satellite navigation. I say that because Grandma’s navigation skills were legendary, albeit for the wrong reasons. There were plenty of stories of her being very good at spotting the turning they wanted, but only after they’d passed it, at which point she’d tell Grandad it was “that one, back there” – much to his exasperation.

That was when you could get her out of the house, because doing so wasn’t a fast process. I think it was a generation thing, because she would wear clothes around the house that she wouldn’t go out in. So there was always a long lead up where nicer clothes were put on, hair spray was applied and her bling appeared before she could be seen in public.

Speaking of her hair, I don’t remember her without a perm. Which may explain why she always loved poodles, having had two Pepes during her life.

She also loved Coronation Street and Emmerdale – they’re the only two programmes I can remember her watching religiously and whenever she visited we’d give over those slots for her and the rest of us would ask questions to fill in the gaps of months or years since we’d last watched it, with her.

It sounds like I’m remembering all of her faults, but these were what made her Grandma. So I’ll leave you with one unexpected skill she possessed: she was amazing at Ten-Pin bowling. Imagine her with one hand clutching her cardigan, throwing so slowly you weren’t sure it’d make the pins, yet she always won. One Christmas we had her try bowling on a Nintendo Wii and she was good at that too, which she lorded over Gramps with glee.

All that’s left to say is: goodbye Grandma and thanks for the memories

Joyce Margaret Hurrell, or Grandma to me.

And she always preferred grandma, not gran or granny or nan or nanna.

Grandma liked things a certain way: a mid-morning coffee in a mug with one teaspoon of sugar and an afternoon tea in a cup and saucer with just half a teaspoon of sugar. I never understood how she tasted the latter.

She liked delicate mugs and cups and drank her tea and coffee so hot it was practically straight from the kettle. She would finish before the rest of us had even dared take a sip.

Despite this, she persevered when it came to others, especially her grandchildren – drinking from thick, heavy mugs and, on at least one occasion, swallowing stone cold coffee without complaint.

She was also far too forgiving of the ‘gifts’ we gave her. It started with a cockerel statuette. I can’t remember why we bought that first one, but more followed in every size and shape until she had a huge collection without any say. The rest of us would have thrown them out but not Grandma.

The same went for witches. Somehow she became the Witch of Wembury and was subjected to numerous stuffed dolls wearing pointy hats, some of which sang or spoke at the press of a button. She told us she used to press these while she dusted them.

Hers became a house full of cockerels and witches – none of which she had selected.

Despite being certain about some things, hasty decision making was not Grandma. Buying a new settee was a multi-year process that involved viewing and testing. Wallpaper was sometimes bought and returned; rooms decorated only to be redecorated a short while later.

Even in restaurants she’d find items on the menu and then ask Grandad “will I like that?”
Occasionally we could convince Grandma to turn her magic powers to Cornish pasties. These were dinner plate-sized things that tasted better than anything you can buy. She rarely made them but would occasionally give in to our demands. Grandad apparently thought his luck was in whenever she made them

Grandma, your quick wit and many inside jokes will never leave us. Every time there are too many peas on the plate or Penny eats a rich tea, we will think fondly of you. Raising a glass of bubbly lemonade to you being reunited with Grandad, the Pepes and Molly. Rest in joy and peace with your great love. We will wrap ourselves in the splendid memories we were so fortunate to build together and look for them to comfort us as we grieve your loss and celebrate your return home. Love always Abbi, Pete & Penny xxxx