Kathleen Millar

Kathleen was born into a large family, one of seven children and they lived in a basic home in the country where times were hard. This upbringing made her a very strong and independent woman, qualities that stayed with her for her whole life.

She married my Dad, James Millar, and brought up four of us... Audrey, Jim, David and me, Ian. We werent the richest of families but we wanted for nothing and we were always loved. Mum was a wonderful homemaker, she baked, knitted, sewed, and worked hard all her life. She was a very proud lady and never asked for help, even in her last years after losing my dad.

In September 2003 she had a large stroke and was not expected to survive it, but she did - to the astonishment of doctors - although as a result she then had to be taken care of by professionals in the Stormont Nursing Home. Her days of being a capable independent lady were behind her but she was always cheerful, and she always had a smile and a hug for her visitors, and she kept her sense of humour to the very end.

Mum was found to have breast cancer after a routine check up by the doctor. We were all consulted and decided that it would be best for Mum if we didnt allow any aggressive treatment, as she was a frail lady and it was probably time to let nature take its course, rather than put her through something that wouldnt do much apart from make her ill and only slightly lengthen her life. Luckily she was kept very comfortable by the staff, who all loved her dearly.

I was called to her bedside on Tuesday the 9th of September, after the nursing staff said Mum was looking very different, and I stayed with her the whole of the day. At tea time I was joined by my ex partner Dia, who sat and held Mums hand and read her passages from The Bible throughout the night, which is something Mum enjoyed listening to. The 9th of September was the night before the day when everyone was expecting the world to end, and to us, sat in a darkened room with a lady who was near the end of her life, it really did feel like the end of the world.

At 5am Mums breathing changed and we knew her time was close. We hugged her and told her it was time to leave, that her poor body was tired and she needed rest. At 6.40am Mum slipped away quietly, with no fuss and very peacefully. She was 87.

Sleep well Mum, you are sadly missed...