My air hostess mum who was born for fun
My MuM lit up every room she entered. She was beautiful, lighthearted and a joy to be around. She could cheer up anyone, loved a party and always had a glass in her hand.
‘It’s good for the heart, darling!’ she’d say to me. She lived for today, never looked back or worried about the past and was the best mum anyone could ask for.
I was her only child, born in September 1996. She was expecting a girl and then I popped out and, all my life, she molly-coddled me, fussed over me and cuddled me so much sometimes I couldn’t get away.
She’d have put a security tag on me if she’d been allowed! But I loved it all and I loved being with her.
She was always taking me on days out — to see Tower Bridge, Buckingham Palace, a quick trip to Spain, even. And the shopping trips! She loved shopping. Every Saturday, she’d try on dresses and I’d sit in the chair saying: ‘you look beautiful.’
I’d help her pick clothes out, and wallpaper and paint colours for our home. It was lovely just being in her company, if a bit tiring! She had a lot more energy than me.
She packed her life so full with travel — she’d visited almost every country and loved to immerse herself in the local culture (though I remember when she and Nan took me to Disneyland all they wanted to do was drink Chablis in the bar!)
She was an amazing cook and would never serve a ready meal, and loved country walks in Saffron Walden and nights out with friends and family. Her motto was: ‘you’ll learn more by living than studying.’
The youngest of five children, she was born to have fun and loved nothing more than going out for dinner and drinks. She also took great pride in her appearance. It seems only yesterday that I’d be sitting on the sofa, blasted by the boom boom boom of Fleetwood Mac or Tina Turner as she’d pout her lips in the mirror, ruffle her hair and catwalk her latest outfit through the lounge before she went out. If I complained there was no peace in our house, she’d say: ‘Don’t be like that. I’m going out in a minute and you’ll soon wish I was back.’
Husbands came and went. First Dave, then Lea (my dad) and then Chris, from whom she split five years ago.
But through the ups and downs she kept smiling, calling herself Elizabeth Taylor and joking that marriage was something to do on a boring Saturday!
She loved change and action. She was a policewoman for seven years and adored it, but after I was born couldn’t bear to leave me for the long shifts. So she became involved in our family business — a local newspaper called the Leigh Times. She was the advertising manager for 22 years and brilliant at it, but she had always dreamt of becoming an air stewardess.
When the paper was sold in 2007, she joined Southend Airport, working for Stobart, the aviation services firm — first on the security and check-in desks at Southend Airport, until finally, after five years, a stewardess job came up for easyJet and she jumped at it.
She was so proud putting her uniform on. Sadly, she only managed a year. Last spring her stomach started swelling and her uniform became tighter and tighter. I used to joke: ‘I hope you’re not pregnant!’ But the doctors couldn’t get to the bottom of it.
When she was finally diagnosed, on March 28, Mother’s Day last year, it was too late. She had inoperable bowel cancer.
Her last weeks were very hard. She was so good at cheering up others and giving advice but, when it came to herself, she buried her head in the sand. She couldn’t bear for her friends to see her without her hair and nails done. She was too proud.
There were hundreds at her funeral — people were queueing to get in and easyJet and Stobarts staff formed a guard of honour. She’d have loved it.
As me and my nan used to say, she was like a butterfly: ‘She went wherever she pleased and pleased wherever she went.’ When she died, it was like a light going out and today I’d give anything to hear her loud music again and watch her catwalk across the lounge in her latest dress.
liSa Shirley ConCannon, born april 29, 1967, died June 8, 2017, aged 50.