MY MOTHER BARBARA
BRITAIN is full of unsung heroes and heroines who deserve recognition. Here, in our weekly obituary column, the moving and inspirational stories of ordinary people who have lived extraordinary lives, and who died recently, are told by their loved ones...
MY MOTHER, Barbara Jean Fuller, was the third of seven chil-dren. There were 20 years between the youngest and the eldest, and it was a case of ‘all hands on deck’ during her extremely happy hop-picking childhood in Kent.
My grandma had so much on her plate that Mum was ‘given’ her little sister — my Auntie Christine — to look after. ‘She was my baby,’ Mum said.
Perhaps this early experience of childcare was what inspired her to become a nanny.
Mum completed her training at Barnardo’s Garden City Nursery, in Essex, and worked as a live-in nanny for various families over a decade.
Highly capable, she always fancied the idea of looking after twins — so in 1953, when the agency let her know that such a post was available working for a couple called Denis and Margaret Thatcher, Mum accepted instantly.
The names meant little at the time, but it was a life-changing decision. Mum was with Mr and Mrs T, as they became known to her, for five years, caring for Carol and Mark from when they were six weeks old.
At the time Mrs T, who already had a degree in chemistry from Oxford, was studying to become a lawyer. Mum did whatever was needed to help out, turning her hand to sewing, knitting, even decorating, to make their busy family life run smoothly.
She always said her job was to do everything she could to allow Mrs T to do her job. And we all know where that led!
Actually, they made an amazing team. I know Mrs T went on to become