Margaret Elizabeth Haird was born on August 1st 1936 in Cottenham, a small rural village 5 miles north of Cambridge in the flat farmlands of the Fens. She was the only child of the local butcher, Harold and his wife, Queenie.
One of her earliest childhood memories was sitting on a swing and singing: ‘We’re going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried line’, though having no idea what the song was actually about.
Her comprehension must have improved over the next few years though and through ability and hard work she passed the 11+ exam, gained a scholarship, and attended a grammar school in Cambridge. She was one of very few in her village to achieve this. There she developed a life long love of music, art and literature … and a strong dislike of mathematics, ‘aided’ in this respect by a very formidable and irascible maths teacher.
An early ambition had been to be a concert pianist and she did music grades, but a childhood experience at church was one factor in making her reconsider this path. She was asked by the vicar to give a loud and impromptu recital on the church organ to try and drown out the sound of a raging thunder storm that was distressing some of the younger children in the church. It wasn’t only the other children that ended up stressed!
On leaving school she enrolled at a secretarial college and, having passed her exams, became a Secretary at ‘Norwich Union’ Insurance company. This is a time which she retained happy memories of.
At a local dance she met Terry, who was stationed at a nearby RAF base. They married in Cottenham and moved south to Lock’s Heath and she saw firsthand that England has hills. This was when Susan and Michael made an appearance.
One of Michael’s earliest memories is watching Margaret cook. This was one of her favourite pastimes and he recalls, even as a toddler, making up birthdays for his cuddly toys, each of which would require a birthday cake of some description! For many years Margaret made cakes for the church cake stall and enjoyed teaching children how to cook.
She enjoyed good health for much of her life and often used to give lifts to her friends. Many times I have been in the car and witnessed first-hand her rapidly accelerating from 1st to top gear, her hand never leaving the gear stick. I think that in a parallel universe she might have been a racing champion … or perhaps a getaway driver.
Margaret was kind, loyal, protective and hard working – many of the qualities associated with those born under the star sign of ‘Leo’. I’m not convinced of the veracity of Astrology, but in this instance it may, through chance, and in this particular case, be accurate. Having said that, I am a Libran and we are all supposed to be indecisive and unsure about most things.
Margaret always enjoyed gardening, perhaps this was a throwback from her childhood in the flat farming district of the Cambridgeshire fens: at the end of her childhood street were fruit orchards. Her ancestors for over 200 years were all marked as ‘A.W.’ - Agricultural Workers. If only records could stretch back far enough I think that Boudicea would also be in there!
In the 70’s Margaret worked in our father’s various shops in Leigh Park and also at his beach kiosk on Hayling Island at the weekends. She liked working with people and she found that some people would regularly come into the shop just to talk. Tragically, and without any warning signs, the best man at her wedding committed suicide. Our father and mother were shocked and devastated at the loss, and did voluntary work on the phones for ‘The Samaritans’. She never forgot the importance of conversation and making time for others.
The early 80’s saw many challenges for Margaret: her divorce, the death of her father through cancer and the onset of dementia for her mother. On top of this she lost her job with Standard Life when the office closed and nearly lost her house as well. But she was very resilient, keeping an optimistic attitude, which was one of her characteristics. She eventually found employment as a secretary at Plessey, where her helpful and friendly demeanour made her a popular colleague.
Margaret enjoyed travelling and often recalled holidays and how fortunate she had been to see so much in her life. Cruises, coach trips and camping holidays in many countries. She often recalled the unexpected pleasure of a hot air balloon flight at dawn in Egypt and seeing the sun rise. She was scared of heights but she was quite short and felt quite secure in the wicker basket as she could only just look over the top of the sides!
Margaret was a parishioner here for 40 years and belonged to the church choir. She sang with a ‘sweet harmony group’ and also ‘Reflections’, a group that used to perform songs and dance routines at care homes, often entertaining those younger than themselves. She also belonged to various social groups and was a chairwoman for ‘The St. George’s Ladies Group’. Until the last month of her life she played cards twice a week with friends. With a surname such as ours, we always felt that she should have been a better card player than she was, but that of course is to completely miss the point: meeting up for cards was really about friendship and in this respect everyone won, every time.
An enduring memory for Michael is of Christmas Eve and the annual sound of mum setting off to Midnight mass, with the car rapidly going through the gears: he having gone to bed much earlier, tired and exhausted. Margaret had so much energy until quite recently and said that, until a few years ago, she felt that she could ‘keep going forever’ … but age catches up with us all. Her last few years had been hard and she faced increasing challenges due to ill health. Susan was a tremendous support and carer for her mother over the last few years. Margaret was also blessed with the kind and generous support of so many friends.
Margaret enjoyed the occasional half glass of wine and her standard comment on a wine was that ‘It slips down easily’. This became a family catch phrase. Actually we never found a wine which ‘put up a fight’ … well, possibly some of Dad’s home brews! Margaret had almost no capacity for drink and just half a glass of wine was quite sufficient to leave her rather ‘squiffy’ and illicit from her the pronouncement, always spoken in an incredulous tone, and with a broad smile: ‘That wine’s gone to my head!!’. The important thing to remember is that she always viewed her glass to be half full … and never half empty.
