Our mum was born on 12^th August 1952, in Osorno, Chile. The second youngest of six.  She met my dad when she was 12 years old. He can remember being bullied by her.  She went to the Imaculada school, where she was taught by nuns.  She was never very good with authority, always a tom-boy and as stubborn as a mule. So, she was always getting into trouble.

  After this she went to Liceo de Niñas College, she worked hard, did well, and loved to play basketball.  She wanted to be a dietician.  It was here where she began to realise all was not well with the world.  Secretly, she would go out to the camps and teach los campesinos how to read and write.

  When my dad was arrested, she saved us all, she fought so hard to get us out and never gave up.  She was strong, kind, determined and courageous as well.

In England, she went to Stannington College, to re-train in Maths, and English. She always brought friends home from her class. Iranians, Japanese etc, her home was for everyone. She continued on to Richmond College, Earl Marshall and to the (then) Sheffield Polytechnic to complete her proficiency in English. We remember this period as being very sad and frustrating for her, going to the market and her not knowing what to say to the racism and  the bullying she suffered. It did have its funny moments though, like the time when the Doctor asked for a sample of Cristian’s water and she gave him some Ribena in a urine sample bottle as Cristian didn’t just drink water !!

  This was obviously until she learned how to communicate and then there was no stopping her. Always up for a good discussion, she never backed down, a Latin woman through and through.

  When we were younger, she looked after us the best way she could.  She was always the youngest mum at school on Mothers day.  We never wanted for anything, she always read, told stories, made us laugh, and gave us so much love. Although Cristian – or enano maldito - always got told off for bullying Catalina, being naughty, trying to burn the house down, and falling out of trees. She was so patient with us and nothing but the best was good enough for her kids.  She loved educating us and always reminded us of who we were, where we were from and why we were in England. She loved teaching at the Chilean school and only now can we appreciate the effort she made for us, as well as other young Chileans. She was always at meetings with the Chilean women, on marches fighting for a just cause.

  At the Restaurant she was very determined, hard working and business-like at all times.  She loved cooking and entertaining. My parents would find any excuse for a party. She loved to dance and laugh and have a good time.

She loved life, and she longed to return to Chile.

  She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer after going for a routine gall bladder removal. Even when she was dying she was strong, she waited for us to arrive at the hospital to whisper her final farewell, before she gave up at 03:45 on the 3rd September 1994, surrounded by her family and friends. But nothing so beautiful is lost forever.

  She was finally buried in Chile which was her home - her patria. Her heart was always there, so she now rests in peace along with her mum, dad and sister, whom she lost whilst in exile... hasta la victoria siempre mamita x