In loving memory
On 10 April 2026, my mum, Anne Jones, died.
It feels ridiculous to say this - I’m a writer! - but there really are no words to capture how acutely painful this is.
This is the eulogy I gave at her celebration of life.
I don’t think anyone reads this blog but I like knowing that the words are out there. That someone might see them and sense how special my mum was.
How to be a grandparent - lessons from Anne Jones
Today, I would like to talk about the grandparenting style of my mother. Or, as she preferred to be known, Gaga.
My mum was an exceptional Gaga. And I think, if she’d written it down, she would have set out a very clear philosophy. So this is my attempt at her guide: the Gaga manifesto.
1. Always respect other people’s opinions… unless you don’t agree with them
Mum never truly accepted that her grandchildren weren’t, in fact, her babies.
She said she understood.
She referred to them as grandbairns.
She said she respected that medical advice had changed since her day.
But deep down, she had an unwavering conviction that she actually knew what was best for them.
So, while she promised she wouldn’t kiss them when they were newborns, and I must have warned her about this dozens of times, we all saw her do it.
When caught, she would just say “Babies need kisses”.
2. Never find yourself short of treats
No matter how unwell you are, or where you happen to be, always have something in your handbag for your grandchild.
In practice, this sometimes involved roping in the catering staff at the Royal Marsden (who, of course, were her friends), or my dad, or me… or anyone else who happened to be available (she never lost the ability to recruit volunteer assistants).
The illusion was never, ever broken.
She once gave Robin a whole can of fizzy drink, said it was “Gaga’s secret lemonade” and told him not to tell Mummy.
But he did. And after the initial denials, said, "If grandparents can’t break the rules then what’s the point of them?”
3. Always read to them
Read when they’re in the womb, read when they’re so new they’re asleep ninety per cent of the time, read when you’re in hospital, read over the phone, buy an audiobook player and record yourself reading a story so it can be treasured forever. Bring stories, read stories. Read to them, always.
4. Embrace the gift of time
Know that every single second of good health should be savoured.
Book last minute holidays to Cornwall and cuddle and spoil your whole family with extravagant meals and endless puddings and laugh and be silly.
Get onto the same level as the children, let them tell you what they love, let them trust you and adore you.
5. Knit like there’s no tomorrow
And knowing that time is not a given, knit for every single child you can possibly think of, to a network way beyond your own grandchildren.
Weave your love and care and mark into every stitch. Leave behind a world where the youngest generation and their parents treasure their piece of Anne Jones.
6. Share your Gaga stories
My mum was a master storyteller, able to create entertaining tales out of pretty much anything. It thrilled me to hear some of the stories from my small life repeated back, made bigger (of course), making others chuckle.
I believe many people here today will know a number of key Robin, Jude or Polly stories.
Some of you will have heard her retell this one:
When she wanted to get Robin to hurry up when walking back from Richmond Park, she went into role as Phoebe’s dog Reggie. Which was interesting because Robin is wary of Reggie. They did some sniffing and some running and got home quickly.
There followed a conversation:
“Robin, are you still scared of Reggie?’
‘Yes’.
‘Is Mummy scared of Reggie?”
“Yes”.
“Is Daddy scared of Reggie?”
“Yes.”
“Is Phee scared of Reggie?”
“No (guffawing), she’s Reggie’s family.”
“Is Polly scared of Reggie?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause while this bombshell sank in.
Then he said, “What happens if Reggie eats Polly?”
7. Stay so close, even when you can’t be
Use technology as your lifeline. Know how parents of newborns are doing by checking their WhatsApp presence. Know that they know you’re there, even when you can’t be.
And when you can be there, quite literally make yourself at home.
My mum’s glasses case and slippers are still here.
8. Know the grandchild’s routine better than the parents
Robin’s nursery schedule was completely memorised… to my absolute shame, she would ask him, “And how was Spanish today?” every Thursday.
She wasn’t just devoted, she was genuinely fascinated by her grandchildren’s lives.
She made the adjustment for us becoming parents so much easier because she rejoiced in every milestone and every small moment too, validating every feeling we had that our children were the greatest thing to ever happen to us.
9. Always answer any question your daughters have
From how to get rid of banana stains to how to stop worrying about your baby sleeping on their tummy. Speak to your daughters countless times a day, visit them whenever you can, offer your opinions even when (actually, especially when!) unwarranted.
10. Tell your daughters constantly how proud you are…
… leaving them in absolutely no doubt, in the shocking aftermath of your death, that you loved them so much
So that I stand here today feeling so unbelievably lucky that mum met Robin, Jude and Polly, but heartbroken they can’t make more memories with quite simply the most special, generous, cheeky, playful and loving Gaga the world has ever known.
