Below is a transcript of the beautiful tribute compiled and read by Kelly at the funeral service.

You’re all very welcome here today to celebrate the life of our beloved mum, Nana, Granny, Auntie and friend Helen. 


You’ll have to allow me the liberty of just calling her Nana, because that’s what she’s always been to me. I couldn’t imagine calling her anything else. Although this past week I’ve been thinking about an experience we often have after someone passes away – while my Nana was here she could only ever be my Nana, but almost immediately after she was gone, I started to see her differently. 


For the first time I properly saw her through other people’s eyes. I looked at the videos and photos on the incredible tribute website that Robin has put together and there were parts of her that jumped off the screen that I have to confess I never truly understood before. Here was my Nana with the all the grace, compassion, elegance, and sharp wit that I knew and loved. But here also was a mum who was playful, adventurous, fiercely protective. Here was an auntie full of welcome, an expansive heart, a role model. Here was a stunning young woman with a wry smile, who stared down the camera confidently and held your gaze like she knew her worth.


Sometimes when a person we love has died, the experience of seeing them through others’ eyes is like getting to know them all over again, and in the midst of the pain of losing them this new knowing can be a precious gift.


And so with that in mind, we’ve prepared a tribute to Nana that weaves together the perspectives of her children and grandchildren, allowing us all to see her through each other’s eyes. Under the restrictions we can’t spend as long as we would like talking about her life in the detail she deserves, and so Michael has produced this beautiful account that has been printed for everyone to take with them. Today I will present our letters to Helen, our reflections on this incredible person and what she means to all of us.


The first thing many of us think of is her warmth and generosity, as Sheila writes: I first met Helen, my future mum-in-law, 48 years ago. She immediately accepted me as one of the family and treated me not only as a daughter but as a friend. We spent many a Wednesday together – her half-day off work – going round the shops, and having lunch and coffee. When her grandchildren, Christopher and Helen, arrived she loved them deeply and they loved her deeply in return. I have many fond memories, which I will always cherish. I will miss her love and warmth.


We also reflect on the things she loved most in life and how it feels to have shared those passions with her, as Blanche expresses: Dearest Mum, Thank you for your great love for God’s beautiful Nature ; and all His innocent creatures on Earth. And thank you for our shared love of classical music and poetry. I shall never forget your tremendous generosity. To me, and the family; and to everyone you met and I shall always remember the love and warmth and laughter we shared . . . , forever.


As her grandchildren, we knew that she was special. She ripped up the granny rulebook, as Christopher remembers: I will miss my Granny Hall very much, she wasn’t your average granny. When minding us she would let us stay up late, join in activities that other grannies wouldn’t dare to, and would always think outside the box when birthdays or Christmas came. She was the focal point of the Hall family, and Cregagh Road was the most amazing place to me, my sister Helen and my two cousins Kellie and Hollie. My wife Emma-Claire and our two boys got to know her as much-loved ‘Granny Hall’ too.


For her 3 granddaughters, having this strong, independent role model in our lives influenced us hugely. Helen, her namesake, has shared these brilliant memories of what she taught her: You taught me how to think outside the box, like the time in the town you pretended to try on clothes in a shop just to use the cubicle and its mirror as a ‘beauty parlour’, so you could retouch your lipstick and respray your hair. You taught me how to be creative, like when you gave me a torch for Easter, its plastic package prised open and stuffed full of sweets and money. You taught me about staying hip and modern, like the time you came into my bedroom to dance with me and my friends, told us you recognized the music we were playing and that, indeed, Jim Morrison was a ‘good-looking man’. You taught me about the importance of independence with your years working in Reids. You demonstrated how to be kind to others. You always had a smile, a kind word and a soft cuddle for me.


I think that all of us have been shaped in some way by Nana’s values. Her integrity and goodness are most appreciated by her 5 children, in how she raised them through often difficult times both inside their home and outside in the wider community. Michael writes: You instilled in our family a love of nature and the outdoors, an ability to accept other people without prejudice, and a pride in our Irish heritage. You gave us a secular and socialist upbringing allowed us to escape the sectarian attitudes so tragically prevalent around us. You had only two expectations for us: that we would be happy and would grow up caring for one another. Whatever we would have achieved, or not achieved, you would still have been proud of us. Although, looking back, most of our childhood seemed almost idyllic, in reality it wasn’t always like that. Over the years, despite your own sorrows, you did your utmost to create a warm, nurturing home for us children. And, in the funeral parlour, as I looked at your face, so calm and youthful-looking, I said to you: “Mum, you are at peace now; all your difficult times are over. I really hope that when we – your children and your grandchildren – talked to you in the hospital, you could hear us and were warmed by our love, and only remembered the good times.”


Nana was surrounded by love throughout her life, a true example of the idea that whatever you put into the world is what you’ll get back. Hollie has written about what that love means to her: My beautiful Nana, you have always been the heartbeat of our family. My childhood is full of the richest memories of you and your loving spirit. You will reside in my heart and soul. I am so proud to see parts of you when I look in the mirror and to know that so many of my values, quirks and beliefs are because of what you bestowed into my darling mum and on to me. I am forever grateful for how well you loved me. I promise to honour your compassionate ways for the rest of my days. When I smell lavender, stroke an animal’s little head, wear a good pair of boots and sing my way through every song that plays, I will think of you and smile. 


As we adjust to the world without Nana’s physical presence, the space she occupied in the world feels incredibly empty, as Robin’s words describe so powerfully: I wish I could go home and see you sitting in your favourite chair and bring you some tea and put some David Attenborough on the telly for you. The house seems suddenly so empty without your presence but now and then we hear your voice or the dogs run into your room to sit by your side. It will take us all a long time to get used to your absence but we know you are there in our hearts. We were blessed that you looked out for us all for 94 years - I’m sure you’re still looking out for us now.


Satee has also captured this feeling of absence by adapting a song from one of her favourite films - My Fair Lady:
I’d grown accustomed to her face,
She made the day begin,
I’d gotten used to hearing her say good morning every day.
Her laughter, the sound of her tv,
were second nature to me
I’d grown accustomed to her face.


But as time passes, the most powerful memories we carry of the people we love are those that instantly make us feel like we are with them. Moments that summon their presence like these beautiful memories Siobhan has shared: Mum I will always remember your dance moves when Mick Jagger came on the radio they were the best and the way you slipped into another realm when Chopin was playing quietly in the background or how your eyes filled with tears when you saw a donkey in trouble and how your face was full of awe and wonder when you watched a nature programme. You were all of these things and so much more and they will be forever imprinted in my heart.


I’m now going to invite Robin to read from a blessing entitled ‘On the death of the beloved’ by Irish poet John O’Donohue


Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,
Where no storm or night or pain can reach you.
We look towards each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.
Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul's gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.
Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.
When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.
May you continue to inspire us:
To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love.


Thank you all for coming today. As we finish, we’re going to play a recording of a song beautifully sung by Toby, one of Nana's Great Grandchildren. This is a song he used to sing to her when she would ask for little concerts in her living room.