But that is not how I shall choose to remember her. This picture shows Daphne in her prime. My Dad must have thought all his Christmases had come at once!
At some point in the last couple of days someone had given Mum a manicure. She left this life with beautifully shaped and deep fuscia nails. Classy to the end, Daphne. It seemed like a sort of annointing.
While we were waiting for the undertaker I was able to sit with Daphne and enjoy being with her at peace. I was deeply touched by the many visitors she had as word got round amongst her neighbours and staff at Victoria Court, and people came to say their farewells.
She had found some comfort in music in her final weeks and seemed particularly moved by the reflective sounds of Midori, All Angels and Luminosa and, of course, she never tired of Nat King-Cole.
I was concerned about the effect of her death on her neighbours and wondered whether we might find a way for the undertakers to take her into their care discreetly.
"She came in through the front door and she'll go out through the front door." the Senior Carer said and it was so - after two sprays of her favourite perfume - to an honour guard of the complete staff: the manageress, all the carers, the catering staff, the maintenance staff, the cleaner, the Chaplain and the District Nurses, all standing with heads bowed in respectful silence. I was not prepared for that and it completely destroyed me. The undertaker said he had never seen that in all his experience. What a wonderful community!
It was a long and difficult struggle. You were so brave and uncomplaining. So, Rest in Peace at last Daphne. We shall miss you.