usa.bryanrite.com –

My mother, Elsie Matthewman, who has died aged 83, was a woman of quiet courage and deep loyalty, with a lifelong instinct to care for others, all expressed not in grand gestures, but in practical, thoughtful ways.

After raising her family, in the 1980s Elsie found her voice through the charity Cry-sis, supporting parents of babies with sleep difficulties. Drawing on her own experience, she developed insights – about diet, overstimulation and behaviour – that were ahead of their time. She spoke at conferences, appeared on radio and television, and helped countless families.

Born in Sheffield, Elsie and her twin brother, Eric, arrived into a bustling household of four older siblings, but sadly Eric was to die in infancy. Elsie rarely spoke of it, though she once confided to me that she always felt that part of her was “missing, just not there”.

Her early years were shaped by the upheaval of the second world war. Elsie’s mother, Florrie, moved the children to the relative safety of Crane Moor, a village on the outskirts of the city, while their father, Bill Redwood, served abroad with the Yorkshire and Lancashire Regiment. Elsie thrived at Silkstone school and later wished she had been able to continue her education. In Crane Moor she grew up alongside Tony Matthewman, whom she would marry in 1959, when she was 19.

Elsie was stylish and sociable, known for her red lipstick and her love of dancing. As a young woman she worked at Samuel Fox’s in Stocksbridge, making the factory’s famous umbrellas. Tony worked as a wire drawer in the company’s steelworks (which later became part of British Steel), and after their marriage the couple settled nearby in Garden Village, where they raised my brother, Paul, and me.

Elsie was a protective, practical and endlessly resourceful mother. When we children were deemed old enough to walk to school alone, she would secretly follow, hiding behind gates and trees. Family holidays were simple and joyful: Blackpool rock, donkey rides, cricket on the beach.

In the 1970s our family ventured abroad for the first time. Elsie was terrified of flying, yet she went because she wanted us to experience the wider world. Her fear erupted mid-flight when passengers stood to look out at the mountains, and she screamed at them to sit down as they would “turn the plane over!” She also clapped the loudest when we landed safely.

When Elsie got involved in the early days of Cry-sis, it was a small support group run by parents for other parents of sleepless babies – it is now a national charity and helpline. Tony supported her work wholeheartedly, driving her to events and cheering her on.

Widowed in 1996, Elsie rebuilt her life with characteristic resilience. She adored her four grandsons – Hari, Tom, Harvey and Archie – and also forged a lively social life with her close-knit group of friends, travelling widely and laughing often.

She embraced new technology in later life, relishing her mobile phone, Facebook, Netflix and online shopping. Even as her mobility declined, she found solutions — buying a motor scooter, which she named the “jalopy”, always expanding her world rather than shrinking it.

She is survived by Paul and me, her grandsons and her sister Brenda and brother Bill.