Herein lies the text from Neill Watson Kerr, my mother's brother, all the way from Aberdeen for the service... "As you can appreciate, I stand here with extremely fragile emotions. But a celebration of Joan’s life – yes - we must be thankful that Joan led a reasonably long, active and fulfilling life, and I am quite certain if she had the chance to relive it over again she would choose very much the same pathways. When I look back at our family, our parents, our grandparents and even our great-grandparents, I appreciate what a strong family bond there was throughout. Without exception they were strong united families with the parents determined to improve, not only their own status in life, but to hand on a legacy of talent, education and encouragement to their children, so that they might have a better future. The church was always an important part of this process. On looking back one has the sneaking feeling that the female members were perhaps the stronger personalities and were often the power behind the throne. In keeping with all that had gone on before, Joan’s greatest joy was to watch and encourage her growing family and later the grandchildren when they came along. Our Father, an Edinburgh man, was a journalist, writer and a poet of considerable standing during the 1st World War and the 1920’s. Our mother, a Macpherson from the Highlands of Scotland, was an artist trained at Art College in Edinburgh. Joan inherited their talents and made full use of these skills throughout her life. It is perhaps of interest to describe one or two defining events in Joan’s earlier life that determined the pathways she followed, and perhaps reinforced her strength of character. The first of these was by courtesy of Adolf Hitler when he decided to start the 2nd World War. At the time we lived in Liverpool in England where our Father worked in the editorial department of the Liverpool Daily Post and Echo. It became obvious that Liverpool would be a target for heavy bombing with its port and heavy industry. Children and non-essential workers were advised to evacuate to country areas. Joan, myself and our Mother moved to her parents’ house and farm in the small village of Kingussie in the heart of the Highlands of Scotland. Joan would have been aged 7 or 8 at the time. We went to school there, made our friends there and grew up at what was a very impressionable stage of our lives. The battle of Culloden and the Highland clearances may have been almost 200 years before, but it was certainly not forgotten in the area and as children we were steeped in the history of the area, the songs, the stories and the legends of these former times. We returned to Liverpool around 1944 but Joan never lost her love of the Highlands; she may have been born a “Kerr”, married a “McGrath” but her heart was always that of a “Macpherson” and she always retained an abiding love of all things Scottish. Another defining moment for Joan came when she was about 11 or 12 years old. At the end of the year exams she lost out being the top pupil and winning the year’s prize by just half a mark. She lost it to her best friend Christine Stewart, the police Sergeant’s eldest daughter. Joan, as you can imagine, was extremely upset. Our Father used to write a long weekly letter from Liverpool with often a shorter note enclosed to either Joan or myself. This time there was a lengthy poem to Joan. I am sure you know the famous poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson about the Charge of the Light Brigade at the Battle of Balaklava. It starts “Half a league, half a league, half a league onwards, into the valley of death rode the 600.” Our Father had adapted it to Joan “Half a mark, half a mark, half a mark onward” and so on. The meaning was clear. If you can get within half a mark – that’s great, but just think what you could do if you put a little bit of extra effort in. If you really want something – take control and give it your best effort. The message was not lost on Joan. I think it also awakened her love of poetry as a medium for expressing ideas, thoughts and emotions. A further defining moment in Joan’s life came from the tales our Father told about his 1st WW experiences. He volunteered for the Army in 1915 and was considered officer material and was sent for training to Trinity College in Cambridge. The atmosphere of the university obviously had a profound effect on him, and thrilled and excited him. Joan decided it would be her university of choice. Against all the advice of the Headmistress and form teachers she went ahead and sat the entrance exam. She gained an interview and was accepted as a student at Girton College in Cambridge. Goal achieved, she made the most of her university life at Cambridge and it was through the university she met Gerald. And the rest is history and her adult life. There were so many facets of Joan’s life that she excelled in and enjoyed, that it is difficult to conceive anyone packing in much more. I also believe that Joan was one of these few fortunate individuals who actually found the end of their rainbow. Joan found her “Pot of Gold” very early in life, and it was that small village of Kingussie in the heart of Inverness-shire in the Highlands of Scotland. She was able to return to it year after year for the rest of her life, recharging her batteries and reliving her nostalgic and happy memories of times past. Joan, I will miss you."