Phil and I want Wendy to be remembered as she truly was — a gentle, tranquil soul who moved through life without complaint and without judgement. She never let the small burdens of the day darken her spirit. She loved to laugh, to sing, and to enjoy whatever moment she was in.

From grammar school to secretarial college, from the WRNS to the Civil Service, Wendy quietly excelled. She worked with diligence and adaptability, earning the Imperial Service Medal on her medical retirement. Achievement never defined her — kindness and warmth did.

We met, fell quietly in love, and for nine happy years simply being “us” was enough. Then Phil came along and Wendy blossomed into motherhood. She was devoted, proud, and full of joy in her son.

Illness changed her path, but it never took away her peaceful nature. In later years she drifted into her own “Wendy world,” singing, chuckling, and often laughing at her own jokes. Though the change was painful for those who loved her, Wendy herself remained content in her own way.

Phil honours her now with strength and love. I kept the promise made long ago — “in sickness and in health” — and stood by her to her final breath.

We miss her voice, her singing, her gentle presence.