Ellen and her brothers and sisters spent many happy years of childhood in the parish of St. Theresa’s, where the hub of life was based around church activities because that was as it was in those days with no TV’s no mobile ‘phones etc. Being the elder sister, I had the onerous task of taking Ellen to school, and she did not like school at all. So I was often on the last minute coaxing her along, and taking short cuts through these church grounds which were out of bounds, and suffering the wrath of Sister Vincent when we got into school late. For people who do not know the history of this parish, this church was only half built when the war came along, and building was suspended for many years, and many years after the war, until money could be found to complete it. So large pieces of sandstone littered this area where the car parks are today, and we as children would play hide and seek, or play jumping from piece to piece. When I enter this church, I feel guilty about the number of times Ellen and I and our friends have shinned up the wall and climbed through the Lady Chapel window to hide, come with others to talk to the stonemason who first started to carve the stones into the beautiful pillars you see here today and we collected money to buy a pillar. As Ellen progressed through school, and learned to enjoy it more she became very good at sport, and played in the netball, the rounders and athletics teams. She represented the town in the Lancashire championships. At fifteen, Ellen decided her career was to be in hairdressing, and she apprenticed herself to Barbara Punshion in St. Helens. She had at last found the creativity she was looking for, and at the tender age of twenty when she had found the man of her dreams Peter, and married him, she took the adventurous step to set up her own business. She then enticed Pat away from Pilkington Brothers to be apprentice to her. I remember wonderful Friday nights, after the customers had gone and when I was on my night out having left four small children with my husband, we would all meet up, have out hair done, experiment with make up, and then come home to Jubits Lane to Mother’s house, where a girlie night was set up around the kitchen table with cups of tea and lots of stories. No wine or night clubs then. Ellen thrived in the hairdressing business, her and Peter bought a beautiful home in Ashton, Peter played the saxophone in a band and they seemed that ‘made it’ couple. They never saw it that way and never changed from the fun loving people they always were. They bought a new white Capri car, and took Mum and Dad on many lovely trips. Your creative streak showed in your home, and when you were in your ‘white décor mode’ you could always root out that elusive object that set your home apart. I remember visiting, to find that you had painted the piano white, something I would never have thought to do, but the effect was stunning, and graphic. It was yours and yours alone. You were hands on, and knew exactly what you were trying to create. When Amanda came on the scene Ellen traded in the business for full time motherhood which she enjoyed immensely along with Pat who had now married Denis and they too settled in Ashton, Pat pushing Joanne and Ellen pushing Amanda. Ellen’s family was complete when Mark and the little yellow peril Paul followed. Ellen always welcomed everyone with that wonderful smile and a laugh which we will never forget. The family ‘bolt holt’ and little paradise was Shell Island. Here they delighted in the fishing, playing on the beaches, the bird watching the walks, and the ‘get away from it all’ where they spent quality time as a family. When Amanda and Nick announced the arrival of the twins Scarlet and Louis, Ellen and Peter were ecstatic. The grandchildren they had been waiting for had arrived, and that was the icing on the cake. Many trips were taken to Leicester, where Ellen metamorphosised into that daring jiver and bopper that I knew well from her teenage years, when she met up with Amanda’s young friends. Ellen would proudly show photographs of the twins, and recall their antics when she came home. But life has cruel twists and turns, and cancer struck. Ellen showed wonderful strength and positivity to try and beat this terrible disease that I never thought she had. It was an example to us all, to fight for your life. And that she did. Overcoming operations and chemotherapy, we thought that the victory was hers, and the photograph that you see on the Order of Service sheet today, is one of Ellen, taken on her 70th birthday, showing full on that she was up for the fight, and that was in the middle of her chemotherapy treatment, she looked at her best, and showed no signs of bowing to the disease. Then in September she made a visit to Leicester to share in the twins third birthday. Was there a premonition in that decision? A short time after returning, the saddest of all blows was struck, and the cancer was back. This time the mountain was just too high to climb, the fight too difficult, and with great serenity she passed quietly out of this life. Ellen, you will always be that very special person, with that wonderful smile, and that great laugh. You were a loving wife to Peter, a super mother to your children, Amanda, Mark and Paul, and a surrogate mother to Joanne, Nicola, and to Nick. You were that special auntie to all your nephews and nieces, and that special friend who shared birthday dinners with your friends. But to me Ellen, you will always be that free spirit, that person totally happy to be different, and that person that Christopher described Austin in his eulogy as ‘happy in their own skin’ happy to pursue what you wanted in life, and then to live that life. I want to say to you Ellen, go forth you free spirit, go in search of those pink sunsets that you so loved, possibly finding them on Shell Island, and go and spread your stardust on everyone you meet and everywhere you go as you sail to distant lands, and share your eternal home with Mum and Dad, Peter’s Mum and Dad, Hilda, Joe, and Austin. Ellen, we are so glad to have known you in what ever capacity in our lives, and I for one am glad that you were my little sister. Go in peace and find rest.