Tobi is a loss to us all

Tobi's loss is a loss to us all. She was a role model as a parent and as a person. I know it can't have been easy for her raising you alone, but she will always be remembered as a great mother.

She had patience, kindness and an ability to read children and their moods.

She listened and spoke to you as individuals. She took time to hear your answers and made sure you understood her point of view.

Although most of my visits were when Tobi wanted to tell me something to print in the Oxford Mail, I regarded her as a friend and she told me she thought of me as a friend too.

I was always amazed by her cheerfulness and her unselfish ways. Even when she was desperately ill, she wanted to know how my family was, how I was, rather than dwell on her own condition. When we went out to lunch together one day, when she was still feeling well, she let her guard down and told me how hard it had been for her to come to terms with the cancer.

She knew she wouldn't recover and she knew you'd be left behind. She told me how much she loved you both and expressed her worries about the difficult time ahead of you.

But, deep down, she knew you'd both be OK because you're fighters.

I never heard her tell you what to do. Compromise was the priority. Rules were made but they were agreed upon and deals between you were struck. One of the first things I noticed about you both when we met by chance at the Cotswold Wildlife Park in February was what lovely children you were.

You still are, and it's all down to Tobi's patience with you and the way she brought you up that has made you that way.

She told me then, as we stood chatting informally while you played on the slide, that her cancer had returned and the situation didn't look good.

During our chat, you both came over and she introduced us: "Hey kids, this is Fiona from the Oxford Mail - you remember her, don't you?"

"No," came the honest reply from you, Ashton. Then she mentioned your head shave - the one you did back in October when your mum's hair fell out through chemotherapy.

You had your head shaved too, and between you you raised £1,800 for the Imperial Cancer Research Fund's Think Pink campaign against breast cancer and I wrote about it.

"Oh yes," you said. "Hello. I remember," and you chatted and flashed me a big smile before heading back off to the slide with Lauren. Tobi told me then that you had written an advert with your family placement worker from Oxfordshire Social Services. It said: "Kids and dog for hire. Long-term contract. Sad gits need not apply."

I suggested to Tobi that it would be better to turn it into a story, rather than it appearing as a stark advert, and she thought it was a great idea.

That was the start of our meetings. As the story broke and the world stood up and took notice, you were thrown into the limelight.

It was fun for you at first, although the reason for the interest was so desperately sad.

But from the start, Tobi was dignified and clear. She wasn't going to wallow in self-pity and she knew she couldn't change what was going to happen to her.

All along, her main interest was to make sure you would both be OK and she desperately wanted to spend a wonderful holiday with you both, to leave you a memory you'd never forget. You had that holiday and it was a dream come true. The stories you all told me when you got back were amazing - swimming with dolphins and enjoying meals out.

But then mum got more and more ill. Even so, when her bed was moved down into the sitting room, she never lost her cheery disposition or her kinds words for others.

I remember visiting her in hospital and another friend was there with a small child. She spoke gently to him about her "big poorly" and explained, in a way he understood, that it wasn't going to get better.

Tobi was passionate about wanting to take the big C out of cancer, especially when children are involved. She wanted you to know what was happening to her, rather than speak in whispers and shut you out.

She cared a great deal about the community too, and was keen to help other parents, especially young ones, deal with their role as mums and dads. Tobi didn't want to lecture - that wasn't her way - she just wanted to offer people help in a way they could relate to. She knew it wasn't easy but she had found a way to relate to you guys that she wanted to pass on.

She wanted advice to be fun.

"After all," she'd say, "the only difference between adults and children is their sock size."

And she was right. Love, Fiona How Tobi's story came to be told Women's Editor Fiona Tarrant was at the Cotswold Wildlife Park with her family on Sunday, February 8, when she spotted single mum Tobi and her twins, Ashton and Lauren.

This is her recollection of that meeting:

"I recognised Tobi by her big, blue glasses. I'd done stories on her before because she and her son Ashton had raised almost £2,000 for the Imperial Cancer Research Fund's Think Pink campaign last October.

"I couldn't walk past without introducing myself, so I went over. Our children played on the big slide while we had a quiet chat. That was when Tobi told me her cancer was back and time was of the essence to find a new family for her twins. "She told me they'd written a funny advert: 'Two kids and dog for hire. Long-term contract. Sad gits need not apply'.

"It was a very moving conversation. I was overwhelmed by Tobi's openness about her own death.

"That helped me talk to her about her illness without skirting around it in polite euphemisms.

"I think she admired me for that. It was a relief for her to talk about it in a straightforward way. Between us, we decided it would be better to do a story about the search for a new mum, rather than have it appear in an Oxfordshire Social Services advertisement.

"The news of her cancer upset me. She was such a fun person and had such a strength of spirit. But I knew she needed to live to see her kids happily placed with new parents and I knew we could help. Everything we did was with her backing and support."

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.