Daphne Irene Lemmey (nee Spencer, also Watkins)


How can I start to talk about Daff’s life;
she had such an impact on all who knew her.


He early life was not easy, born in Birmingham,
going out to Australia as a “ten-pound
pom”, finding she was pregnant with Dane, and then dragging around Dane behind her in a strange Australia where she met lots of new friends.

She married Roger and had Saxon and Justin; they lived in Birmingham (Handsworth) and then moved to Bournemouth. Roger and Daff split up and Roger ended up taking Saxon to Australia while the other two sons remained behind with Daff. It was a traumatic time for all.

At some stage during the above Daff became a Christian, I don’t remember the exact date, but I do remember her learning to speak in tongues in the shower! She also enrolled and studied hard for a degree in geography at the then Bournemouth Institute for higher education.
To do this whilst being a single mum was a huge achievement.


Daff became a residential project worker, working with troublesome homeless adolescents with the Children Society and met me, Bill, then an assistant youth worker, through an inter-agency meeting. She wanted to find out if I were a Christian, and I famously said yes (I was attending an Anglican church there) and walked away (!)

One thing led to another, more by action on Daff’s part, I have to say, and we had our first kiss at my work leaving party I had in my new tiny bedsit. (I had a new job starting in Taunton). We continued a relationship at 50 miles distance and decided to get married quite quickly, 6 or so months later on 12.12.87 – over 35 years ago.


Daff got a new job in Yeovil with Stonham Housing, I gave up mine, we worked unpaid as youthworkers for a local free evangelical church, and then ended up housing various younger and older people in our home, near Yeovil. Daff also ran a drop-in centre, not without its difficulties in Yeovil.


Eventually she retired and by then I, Bill, had become a second-hand bookseller. Daff helped me a little in the shop, but we quickly found out we didn’t work well together! (To be accurate, she did a nice new window display for me, which I didn’t like, so moved lots of the books a bit insensitively. She then said she wouldn’t ever do it again and didn’t!). She was definitely a feisty woman who knew her own mind.


We got involved in an Anglican church in Yeovil, Holy Trinity, and Bill eventually went forward for “Holy Orders”. Daff would like to have done the same, but it didn’t happen, partly due to her age. Many people, however, would see that we had a joint “ministry”, both before and after I, Bill, was ordained.


She lived in Lyme while I trained in Cambridge and we met at week-ends (this is when she retired). Then we moved to New Milton for my curacy and then to Porlock. Daff was involved in many church activities, particularly a drop-in coffee morning at Porlock. Many will remember her from this. Only less than 5 years ago we moved here to Woodbury – during lockdown.


Daff had a fall just before Easter, recovered well over a 6 week
period, but then, very suddenly, we discovered that she had a fast-growing brain tumour (she had previously been diagnosed with a rare blood disorder, and then with a “low grade leukaemia).
She deteriorated very quickly over less than a month, and died peacefully at home on Wed 27th.
September.


We are indebted to superb health care from the emergency response team, from Marie Curie and Hospice Care. Through them Daff was able to stay at home, and to die peacefully with both Justin and me beside her. Saxon and his family
arrived later that same evening.


Daff was also a keen walker, and with a group of friends walked half of the coast to coast walk, and part of the West Highland way in Scotland – we have lots of pictures to prove this. Sadly Bill never really walked with her, and did his long-distance walk when her walking days were over.


I have tried to provide a brief overview of a very full fascinating life, but the facts themselves don’t really do Daff justice. She was, according to many of you, lovely, special, kind and caring. Many have special, fond memories of a lovely prayerful character who gave so much. She was cheerful and interested in people, had a spirit of fun and adventure and full of kindness (all other people’s words – paraphrased). Bill’s sister-in-law, Ali, wrote that the two of us (Daff and Bill) were a great team, very different from each other, but meant to be together. Ali admires our shared faith. I, Bill, rejoice that Daff is now with our Lord in heaven, where trouble, sorrow, pain and crying are no more.


In a moment I’ll finish with some words from some of our Australian friends, the family of Liz Taylor who ran Stonham in Yeovil, employing Daff and many of her friends.


I, Bill, can, I’ll say no more, but will try and speak through the piano – a wistful, longing sort of piece. [This
was played by me at the church funeral]. As she was dying, and couldn’t communicate with us except by her eyes, I ran out of words to say, so would often play the piano to her.


This is what our Melbourne friends wrote:


You are in our collective hearts
There are no more words
But precious are the memories
We hold you close
We embrace you in love, now and forever.


Amen.




















Bill’s Tribute for Daff
for the Burial


Halfway between Pooh’s house and Piglet’s house was a
“Thoughtful Spot”
where they sometimes met when they had decided to go and see each other, and
as it was warm and out of the wind they would sit down there for a little and wonder what they would do now that they had seen each other.
One day, when they had decided not to do anything, Pooh made up a verse about it, so that everybody should know what the place was for.


This warm and sunny spot
Belongs to Pooh
And here he wonders what
He’s  going to do.
Oh bother, I forgot-
It’s Piglet’s too. (ch.8
“The House at Pooh Corner”; A.A.Milne)




You might not all know that I read Winnie-ther-Pooh to Daff on our honeymoon, and on the way there on the train. In the rain, I made up various “rhymes of Pooh” as we walked.


Our marriage was about love, of course, but also about companionship – a lot. I think the relationship between Pooh and Piglet exemplifies this – it doesn’t actually matter what we’re going
to do – we are, or have been, together.


Often when out for a meal, we’d have a book or puzzle each; maybe Daff would people watch as well, or look at the view. We liked going out to eat and to be together.


That’s what I am going to miss, as well as being at home together – it’s that knowing that Daff is there too, even if just around the corner. Piglet and Pooh are like that; when one is down the other is there.


At the end of this chapter, about Owl’s house being blown down, Piglet escapes through the letter-box and goes off to get help – half-an-hour later is promised. Meanwhile Owl tells Pooh a story – and Pooh falls asleep.


Maybe we are like Pooh (me) and Owl – waiting for Piglet to return with help; perhaps we have to wait until eternity – and meanwhile continue to help each other.


Daff and I did have a “Thoughtful Spot” with capitals – I was the Pooh to her Piglet. It’s touching to think that a toy Piglet is in her coffin – but sadly only a Disney one!


Let’s all find thoughtful spots in our memories, and continue in the helpful vein that Daff did for pretty well all of her life. And at the end, she had to accept others’ help – for which we are eternally grateful.


May she RIP. Amen.