I don't know what to say apart from thank you. I was overwhelmed by the amount of people that came to celebrate Mike's life yesterday. I can't thank Steve Barnes (chaplain) enough, he made the service so personal and so perfect, at the end of the afternoon at the Swan he gave Hannah, Cameron and me a group hug and told us how proud Mike was of us and that for Mike we must now continue living. Yesterday that seemed like it was going to be possible today everything seems so much more difficult. It is all very real, I went to the cemetry today and told him how many people had come yesterday and what a "nice" day it had been.

Some people at the back of the church had said that they had not heard everything that Emma and Pete had said so I have added it to todays blog.

Remembering Mike – by Emma McDonnell


Mike will be deeply gratified to see so many of you here today - I see faces from all areas of this remarkable man's life, and believe that it is a testimony to a wonderful man that you are all here to celebrate the life of Mike Kerr. And a celebration this must be, for Mike was a man who celebrated life and has left a legacy filled with happy memories and laughter.

Mike and I had talked about this day, as he had with Jo and the family, and most of what happens today is as per his wishes. To that end, I need to let you know that he banned the poem 'All Is Well' as it runs - Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped into the next room' - a lovely poem, but it is the second line that Mike has taken exception to, on the grounds that he is NOT in the next room, he is in this one, and more than that, he is watching!

In the eleven years that I have known Mike he was my friend, my advisor, my conscience and, on occasion, my tormentor. We all knew him for his wit, his ability to charm and make anyone laugh, his lack of respect for authority and his total dedication to living life his way, whatever the consequences. But there was so much more to Mike than that happy, uplifting character he displayed with such constancy. So it is now my privilege to share some of the other aspects of the man that was Mike.

For all of his attempts to disguise it, Mike was an extremely knowledgeable, intelligent and insightful man. When we worked together he was a mentor to many, and never ceased to amaze with his ability to guide, influence and coach the people and businesses that he came into contact with. His ability to inspire trust in people was striking, and he could achieve this privileged status within minutes - he came out of most interviews with the words 'you won't BELIEVE this' but always treated those that he dealt with with respect and integrity, qualities that can be in short supply in business. He was a constant joy to be around, and could be relied on to save any tricky situation, be it a sobbing colleague, a difficult client or a terrible faux pas with his nimble, incisive view of the situation - within seconds a crisis was diverted with laughter. I understand from Jo that this ability also thrives in Cameron so more power to you.

His decision to leave our business and Reading and move here, to Newport Pagnell, was one that was driven by one main desire - to spend more time with his family. Whilst he also wanted to own his own business, and in turn, destiny, the love that he has for Jo, Hannah and Cameron was all that really mattered, and in the end he and the family made what appeared to the rest of us to be a dramatic and challenging life change seem to be nothing more than common sense and, in many ways, aspirational. It made him happy. 'Downshifting' is not an appropriate term for this move, as he and Jo dedicated themselves to the role of newsagents to Newport Pagnell with total commitment and passion. Insanely early mornings to prepare the round were coupled with a truly dedicated approach to window dressing - many calls were received to say 'you must come and see my Easter window!' He adored this work as it combined both his creativity and his love of people - everyone who came into the shop was an opportunity for a chat, not just another customer. But most importantly for Mike, coming here gave him what he had always wanted - quality time with the family he loved above anything else. That he lived for you, Jo, Hannah and Cameron, goes without question.

Eddie and Jean, Mike's parents, raised an exceptional man, however there is little doubt in my mind that it posed its challenges alongside its triumphs! He loved his trips to Florida to be with you and anyone who knew him knows the respect and love that he had for you both. To lose a son so early will mean unprecedented pain and grief, but please take some comfort that the life you gave to the world in turn gave a great deal to the world - his legacy of positivity will live on. He was so proud of Karen and Gill, sharing their achievements as if they were his own. You would be surprised how much people you have yet to meet already know about you, and it is all good. It has been in discussion with the family that now leads me to what we feel to be the central elements of Mike's character. Firstly, his compassion. Mike was a man who hated the evils and unhappiness of this world, who would champion the underdog time and time again, and whose heart knew no bounds when it came to caring for other people - it truly didn't matter who you were, if you needed help, he would give it. His work as a volunteer for the Samaritans almost summed this up, however this attitude also extended past humans to animals (save the odd terrapin) - only 2 months ago he was exhorting the family to arms in aid of an under-fed hedgehog in the garden. The hedgehog is fine.

And now to Mike's bravery. This leads me on to the subject that I have thus far avoided - his illness. No-one deserves to be stricken with cancer as Mike was, but I am compelled to say that I for one struggle to think of anyone who deserved it less. His demands from life were simple, family and love, and to be struck by this tumor when he had achieved what he wanted is nothing short of cruel. But he never once said that, he never cried 'why me, why not him?', choosing instead to react with positivity, belief, and as always, humour. He set an example to us all. And he beat the odds - his spirit fought on and won us all an extra year with him. He was amazing. Jo played a central role in this fight - her incredible bravery bears mention too and has been nothing short of an inspiration. The strength that she has shown during the last 18 months has been staggering and she has done Mike proud. Her devotion and care was unstinting, whilst keeping the business going, as well as the daily updates on the blog, to which many of us clung to for news. I know how deeply she has appreciated the help and support she has received from the family and everyone at Newport News, who gave time and so much more. Hannah and Cameron, you were the lights of his life and you fuelled his spirit.
And now to Willen Hospice. It is almost impossible to suitably describe the good that they do, so I have taken Jo's words:

'A massive thank-you goes to Willen Hospice. I would like people to be aware of the amazing work they do. I really wish that I could do something to promote the fact that they give you so much support in life and that the hospice is not a morbid place at all. It is the one place in the world that you can talk about how you really feel, and people really know how you feel because they are all going through it too'.

This is an organisation that is almost entirely charitably funded. The family would also like me to thank Steve the chaplain, as he has offered comfort over and above the call of duty.
There is so much more that I could go on to say about you, Mike - your ability to remember the smallest detail of anybody's life, your love of music, flowers, cats and dogs, the way you would try and win an argument by quoting song lyrics, your wink, your smile. But now we have to say good-bye, dear friend, and thank-you for everything that you gave us. Go gently.




He wasn’t just Mike he was our dad - Hannah and Cameron's memories read by their uncle, Peter Denton

Everyone here today will have special memories of Mike, but we were lucky enough to have had him as our dad.

We have so many happy memories. Throughout dad’s illness and in the past week since he has died so many people have sent messages about their memories of his cheeky smile and about the mischief that he used to get into. Many of the messages were about when he was young, but the mischief continued.

He was a fun dad, we always knew that he was in charge and exactly how far we could push him but he was always fair and willing to listen to our side of the story. We have always counted ourselves lucky that mum and dad were so happily married and that we were brought up in a secure happy home. Dad taught us to love and be loved in return. He had a really inappropriate sense of humour at times and mum often commented that it was like having three children and used to despair about how she was ever going to teach us right from wrong with him behaving so badly.

Dad was very keen on freedom of speech, he always encouraged us to say what we were thinking, and often even if we didn’t say it he knew what we were thinking any way.

Hannah has vivid memories of when Cameron was born, every Saturday dad would take me into town to get away from mum and the baby. We had very special times, we would often go and have breakfast out, and I would always be told “don’t tell mum, and make sure you eat your lunch or she’ll tell me off” every week he would buy me a print of a Winnie the Pooh character, they cost just pennies but the memories that went with buying them are worth a fortune to me.
Memories of holidays in Swanage will be with us forever, we have memories of both dad and grandma there, two very special people in our lives at a special place where we have shared so many happy holidays. The tradition of grandma breaking a deckchair, Cameron knowing the words of Punch and Judy all the way through, our walks along the sea front with dad looking for shells with the waves splashing at our feet. And how can we forget how Market Day man used to get on dads nerves so much and he’d say “does he ever shut up?”


Cameron remembers when he was six he fell off the monkey bars and broke his arm in four places, mum rang dad to tell him that she was at the hospital with me, he arrived there really quickly after obviously breaking every speed limit possible. He looked at my arm and said “it doesn’t look bad” mum pointed out that he was looking at the wrong arm, when he looked at the broken one a nurse had to get him a chair before he fainted. He always told me he had only done it to try to cheer me up and make me feel that it wasn’t so bad, but I’m not so sure.

Dad’s illness changed him a lot. All of our lives had to adapt to the ever changing symptoms and to deal with the extra care that he needed. We will always have so much respect for the way that dad dealt with that terrible disease. He insisted that he would be the one to tell us that he was ill and what the eventual outcome would be, it is not until now that we can fully appreciate how difficult that must have been for him. He told us that he would fight to the end for us and he did.

We have his blood running in our veins and if we have inherited any of his kind, thoughtful, loving and generous ways then that will make us even prouder that he was our dad.