One of the saddest things for me about COVID has been having to deal with grieving families remotely. Yet often the challenge of putting down in print the details of a loved one’s life has produced some wonderfully poignant stories and so often tales of daunting challenges overcome, such as the life of Nan McMurdo.

Nan was a lassie from New Cumnock. Her husband Ian relates that though they went to the same school, their paths never crossed until one night at a charity bash in Glasgow.

Ian recalled: “I spotted this beautiful young girl dressed in her granny’s nightdress and asked her up to dance.

“However, I soon realised that asking her out would be a complete waste of time, because if she even remembered her own name the next day it would be a miracle.”

Ian and Nan had met in 1971, got engaged in 1972 and married in 1973. They don’t “hing aboot” in New Cumnock.

Nan was from the very earliest a force of nature … a permanent smile on her face, always larger than life. But that life for Nan was soon to change.

Her beloved dad died suddenly in 1975, then she gave birth to her daughter Jillian the following year, only to be diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis a few months later. Gone were the carefree days of ice-skating, horse-riding and water-skiing, to be replaced by walking sticks, zimmers and wheelchairs.

After the birth of her son Derek she became heavily involved in the voluntary sector. Everything Nan did was about helping others, particularly those from disadvantaged backgrounds and children with learning difficulties. In 1989 she was awarded the title of Cumnock Citizen of the Year, even if the awards ceremony was ruined by Ian and Derek moaning all night about missing a live televised Rangers’ match.

A few years later, Ian became a missionary to deepest Dunbartonshire, as Director of Education. Many will remember him.

Nan’s ongoing work was formally recognized in 2015, when she was awarded the MBE by Queen Elizabeth II. The award was for ‘Services to Disadvantaged and Vulnerable People’.

She was a real battler all her life, especially for others.

When you met Nan, you fell in love with her.

She was unique, and though she had her own health problems, that was never the focus of your attention. It was on this vibrant force of nature that charmed you, challenged you and after speaking to her, the overwhelming feeling was not of sympathy, but instead one of immense admiration and not a little awe. I confess there was a tear in my eye and a lump in my throat when at the end of the service her favourite Karaoke Song Da Doo Ron Ron boomed out of the speakers.

Nan McMurdo did not lose the battle. She simply retired from ill health undefeated.