We are here today to celebrate the life of Sue Capewell.

Born Susan Margaret Mary Ross in Chiswick in 1954, to Margaret and Frank, she received a Catholic education, something which probably accounts for her sense of morals and the importance of doing the right thing, and certainly accounts for her sharp, and occasionally wicked, sense of humour!

Siblings Sue, David and Tony had in common an intelligence and a desire to learn more about the world, no doubt instilled in them by their mother Margaret, a nurse, and their father Frank, an electrical engineer.

The Ross household on Alexandra Road in Chiswick, was also at one point shared with the extended Maynard family, with Winnie and Vince – and their son David who became almost a half-brother to Sue, and would remain so for the rest of their lives.

Early interests for Sue included ballet, and singing in a choir, and as a child of the late 50s and 60s, music remained a cornerstone of her life from that point on. It was through the choir that she made friends and co-conspirators including Polly, who she also later worked with at Goodbans, the legendary department store in Chiswick, which shared its DNA with the shop in the classic TV comedy ‘Are You Being Served?’.

Polly especially remembers being placed with Sue on the front door when decimalisation was brought in, to assist with changing people’s money – apparently the only two girls in the store brainy enough to work such things out! Many have since recalled Sue’s sharp wit as well as her intelligence, and a letter from MENSA suggesting an IQ of 151, and inviting her to take a further exam, was further testament to this.

Sue’s spark, and desire to help others, led her to follow in her mother Margaret’s footsteps, and become a nurse. For her, there was no more prestigious a hospital to apply to than St. Bartholomew’s in the City of London, better known as Bart’s, and in 1971 she was accepted to begin her training. She then went on to work as a staff nurse at Bart’s, and one of her first baptisms of fire was to help the patients injured in the devastating Moorgate Tube disaster.

For Sue, Bart’s became a totemic, lifelong companion. It was there where she learned to become a nurse, and where she met so many fellow young nurses who would go on to become lifelong friends – friends like Meg, Rita and another Sue who would be re-christened Soof and become ‘Secret Squirrels’ with Sue, to name just a few. Beyond the close friends she made during this time, a broad sorority would – through the Bart’s League of Nurses – remain a constant in Sue’s life well after she left.

Memories were made during that time studying and working right in the heart of the City, following bands like the Moody Blues, crowding into the TV lounge to watch Monty Python, and, as Polly recalls, “boyfriends and heartbreak.”

Sue’s love of London was centered around her life at Bart’s, and the nearby landmarks of the City – as well as the pubs around Smithfield Market! – but it was added to by an early spell of jury duty – the details of which were rather gory and yet she seemed delighted to recount the tale on many occasions! The trial was conducted at that most prestigious of law courts, the Old Bailey.

It was around this time that she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. The diagnosis came just as she was sitting her finals. Sue’s determination meant that this did not interrupt her progress, and it was her then-boyfriend Keith Capewell’s determination that meant their young relationship continued, and quickly blossomed into marriage, as a sign of his dedication to her despite this new diagnosis, and her unknown future.

Sue and Keith quickly married in 1977, followed by a move to Stratford-upon-Avon, and the couple had their first child – Jennifer Louise – in 1980. Jeni’s birth introduced them completely by chance to the Staples family, side by side on the maternity ward, with the two new mothers becoming fast friends. That connection would go on to last a lifetime. Sue made friends easily throughout her life – sharing a joke, a bit of gossip or trivia, a knowing smile, and doing everything she could to make those around her feel special.

A few years later, Sue, Keith, and Jeni moved south to be nearer to their older relations, and the family home at Braeside on London Road in Amersham was established. This was to be the home of the Capewell family for just over twenty years, and Amersham was to become Sue’s home for more than forty. Shortly after this move, a second child, Paul Steven, was born.

Sue spent the early years of her children’s lives as a housewife, before they went off to school, and the call of nursing brought her back – and meant that she finally got her driving license in her mid-thirties, enabling, amongst other things, a delighted Jeni to start Brownies!

This new independence gave Sue the opportunity to commence working in a truly noble and selfless role: working nights at the bedside of those with terminal illnesses, in the final days and hours of their lives. Her bedside manner as a palliative care nurse brought comfort to countless patients, and it was this, combined with her stoicism and strength of character, that enabled her to carry out this role.

Of course, there has to be a lighter side to such a heavy job. As kids, Jeni and Paul came to be used to Sue’s announcement when driving around the Chilterns, pointing at random houses, declaring, “Oh, I’ve had a patient there….and one there…”, and when coming to pick them up from school having attended a patient’s funeral – Jeni quickly learned to recognise her mother’s funeral outfit. With her job taking place in twilight hours, there was also the bittersweet joy of Sue being home early in the morning, before Paul and Jeni went off to school – although this inevitably meant she had lost a patient overnight!

Outside of her working life, it is important to remember Sue the traveler, and Sue the explorer. From tackling long walks like the Pennine Way or the Thames Bridges challenge, to long-haul flights to New Zealand to see her brother Tony and his family, and any excuse to get out and take a photograph of something beautiful – sunsets or people or just a gorgeous view. Sue loved to fly, whether being whisked away in commercial airliners, light aircraft or even the odd helicopter. For many years, son Paul remained convinced that helicopters were known as ‘bye bye mummy’ thanks to his utterances as she went up in one.

Despite the potentially traumatic nature of her life as a nurse, Sue remained in thrall to medical dramas such as M*A*S*H, Casualty, Holby City and ER – something of a busman’s holiday! ER was a particular favourite, although we may have a certain George Clooney to thank for that!

She was a dedicated viewer of Coronation Street, perhaps as a nod to her mother’s Manchester upbringing. She loved to soak up the pomp and glamour of a big event on the TV, with Royal weddings and concerts whether classical or rock music bringing her a lot of joy.

An avid follower of the news, she’d often be found with a newspaper nearby, or browsing Ceefax to keep up with the latest headlines. She loved being the first to tell someone else when something had happened. And she also loved to watch rugby, and tennis – with Roger Federer being something of a favourite, for reasons known only to her!

Sue coped well with a gluten free diet for most of her life, which it was hoped would help with her illness. She worked her way through this difficulty at a time when it wasn’t as easy to find gluten free alternatives as it is today. She became adept at carrying secret packets of rice crackers somewhere on her person at all times, in case of needing to add to meals while eating out!

And she didn’t let this diet get in the way of her love of a good pub – Sue proudly drank pints. And red wine. …And the odd brandy. Although probably not all at once! In later years, a taste for bourbon emerged, and she could only chuckle at herself when on her slightly less sharp days, she would accidentally refer to Jack Daniels as Paul Daniels instead!

Sue could also never resist the opportunity to top up her tan, and numerous photos are testament to her taking any excuse to bare her shoulders to the sun, or bronzing her long legs. In fact, many such photos and memories reflect the ideal combination of a pint enjoyed in the sun!

Sue loved to play badminton for several years, as much to expand her friendship group, as to keep active. And she was involved for many years with groups like the NWR, and Handicrafts – the latter being more affectionately known as “stitch and bitch”! These groups of like minded women encouraged wholesome activities, a wider circle of friends, and the opportunity to do embroidery and other needlework – all whilst having a good old gossip.

Music was a constant companion through Sue’s life. Whether that was in the choir, even performing as a child in Chiswick on a couple of recordings which were pressed to vinyl, or going to concerts and tracking down the records and CDs of the artists she loved. Artists like the Moody Blues, Bryan Ferry, Genesis, Neil Finn, Bryan Adams – as well as *Ryan* Adams – and First Aid Kit. And, perhaps above all else, Eric Clapton. Sue had a love of any guitarist who could write a great song. Unlike some, she kept up this passion for new music, always listening out for new and upcoming acts on TV and radio shows hosted by the likes of Bob Harris and Jools Holland, and making enquiries at the local record shop of new tracks she’d heard. Sue’s memory will live on for many of us in the songs we associate with her.

It is a horrible irony that after so many years spent caring for others, Sue’s declining health meant that she came to rely on the care given to her. Her intimate knowledge of medicine meant that she knew all too well what may or may not have laid ahead. And yet she never let this bring her down, and she never admitted defeat. She humbly accepted her fate, continuing on as usual, charming those around her with a knowing smile, a story or a bit of gossip, and a real warmth which all those who knew her will recognise. In fact, even in a care environment, Sue could never resist the opportunity to play ‘nurse’ with her fellow patients and residents!

Sue would not want us to grieve, or wallow, or mourn her loss, or to focus on how her illness came to restrict her life. But rather, she would want us to celebrate the wonderful things she achieved, and the joy she brought to so many people in her professional and private life.

She would want us to smile, and to remember the jokes we shared, the trips we went on together, or the memories made doing the things we loved with her. She would not wish to be defined by that which came to limit her movements, but by her determination to push past it, and to exceed all expectations. A moment in Sue’s presence was one of warm, shared smiles, a tongue-in-cheek joke, some shared wisdom, and a feeling of warmth that would persist.

We are all so lucky to have known Sue at various points in time. And today we are gathered here to remember her, and all the moments of her wonderful life.