For Wendy Marsden, she wanted the memory of her to be a positive one and so, when I was thinking about how to best remember her and celebrate her life, I decided that it would be better to let someone more qualified do the talking for a change. That’s why I asked husband Ian to share his thoughts on this remarkable woman who had so many happy and laughing times.

I’ve known Ian longer than I knew Wendy, in fact, to my regret, I only managed to meet Wendy once and that was after she was diagnosed with a Glioblastoma Brain Tumour in December 2023. Despite this, however, she touched my life immensely with her positivity and humour. Indeed, she was a true Scottish woman and struck me as a warm and caring individual – so long as you stayed on the right side of her!

It wasn’t just me because Wendy touched the lives of countless people, something very apparent at her funeral (which I was honoured to attend). Indeed, it perhaps came as no surprise to those in attendance that all the seats at the service were soon occupied and the remaining attendees, of which there were many, were only able to stand, with people spilling out into the corridors. If this was an event or show, it would be a very popular one.

Wendy, like too many others, died too soon aged just 49 after her 13 month fight with cancer ended in January. Of course, the memory of her will live on for the countless number of people she left a lasting impression on and, whilst grief can be an inevitable part of death, Wendy would prefer it if you were to dry your tears on bright and sunny days instead.

I’d also like to take a moment to thank Ian for agreeing to do this because he, along with their three children, have undoubtedly been affected by her death more than anyone. Ian, like Wendy, is a wonderful person and I’m extremely proud to call him a friend. It’s perhaps fitting that he has chosen a day during Brain Tumour Awareness month to do this but then, that’s Ian, selfless to a fault. Whether he’s always been that way, or whether it was Wendy’s influence on him remains unclear ha

What is clear is that Wendy lived her life unselfishly and put the needs and desires of others before her own. For Ian, the trauma is still very real and he has told me many times how much he misses her, even her snoring, which he admits now he always found comforting. He has secretly wrote a blog since she was diagnosed (well, it was a secret at least) and I truly hope that he releases it one day because it has the potential to be really helpful to so many people like him caring for someone with cancer.

When he stood up at the funeral and read his tribute he had the whole room captivated. I was laughing; I was crying but mostly I just sat there (I was one of the lucky ones who got a seat) smiling, at Ian, at Wendy and at the amazing times they had together. That kind of love is rare and, even if I could take away his pain, I wouldn’t, because that would take away everything that made their relationship so special, and I would never want to do that.

To get an idea of what I’m talking about, here’s Ian in his own words.

If I had one last message…

Words. At times like this, they seem so inadequate. How do you describe such an amazing, awesome, funny and beautiful human being as Wendy. The fact that people traveled from all over the country, from Livingston to Cleobury; Wednesbury to Warboys; Manchester to Leeds, to be at her funeral shows just how many people she touched in her life and just how loved she truly was. Something she couldn’t see herself.

I met Wendy the old fashioned way… Online, on the Plenty of Fish dating site. No apps. No swipe right back then. From the first few messages, we connected. She replied to me because I spelt correctly, didn’t use text speak and didn’t send unsolicited pictures! A good start. 

We found each other on MSN and Facebook. Numbers were swapped and, as mad as it seems, I was falling for her and we had our first date on Saturday 11th April, 2009. I’d been to watch Notts County lose at Rotherham and then made my way to Leeds, determined it wasn’t going to be two losses that day. She was late! She will tell you she was early so parked further away which meant a longer walk, which meant I was stood waiting… She was late! But, from that nerve shattering beginning, began the most amazing adventure of my life. 

I told her I loved her that night. She told me same. Within three months, on a balmy warm evening at Beachy Head down in Eastbourne, and to my own surprise as well as hers, I was on one knee asking her to marry me! Thankfully she said yes and and we got married on Saturday 13th July, 2013 in Eastbourne. She looked stunning that day. Mind you, I’m not sure if it was the way I was dressed (in my kilt and Braveheart outfit), but she just couldn’t stop laughing as she was saying her vows! 

So many memories. So many magical moments. In 15 years and nine months together, we took each other to places we could only ever imagine previously. We were soul mates who found each other when we needed to and the love I had for her… I would, and did, do anything for her.

Thursday 14th December, 2023 was the day our world was turned upside down. Her speech was faltering and she’d just lose herself mid sentence. We didn’t initially think anything of it, but then it carried on and seemed to be getting worse so she went to see a doctor. I’d just finished work when I got the call… Wendy and (our daughter) Paige were on their way to A&E! They thought she’d had a stroke. So, I made my way there. And that night changed our lives forever because it wasn’t a stroke, it was a suspected brain tumour! (This was confirmed the next day: Friday 15th December, 2023)

The following 13 months were a whirlwind; a roller coaster. We cried (we cried so much). We got angry. We laughed (we laughed so much). And we made so many memories as a family, taking trips to London with Paige; trips to Edinburgh and Kidderminster to meet up with friends. We celebrated our wedding anniversary at the grand Hotel in Eastbourne… Where Wendy got stuck in the bath and we laughed so much… After she was rescued by hotel staff, her dignity left somewhere in the bath. And then, Disneyland Paris, the whole family (all five of us), made sure we had so many lasting memories.

Alas, the last couple of months she had begun to deteriorate and, although we had such a lovely Christmas, New Years Eve (Hogmanay for all you Scots) just wasn’t normal. On Saturday 11th January, 2025, the brain tumour took Wendy, ending her pain and suffering, and she was at peace now.

Me and our family, plus Wendy’s family, were so grateful to everyone who came to her funeral and, if I had one last message from me to Wendy, it would be this:

“Thank you for everything you did. You’ve given me a truly wonderful family, the 5 of us. You were, are, and always will be the love of my life. I love you so much. I miss you, and me and the kids will carry on doing you proud. Sleep tight my baby”.

Brain Tumour Support Charity

If you’ve been moved by Ian and Wendy’s story, or you’ve been affected by any type of brain tumour, and want to make a donation to ensure that patients and their families can continue to receive the support they need, you can do so here.

Brain Tumour Support offers vital services for patients, loved ones and carers at any point from diagnosis (which can be terrifying and bewildering) to coping with the life-changing impact that a brain tumour can have and sadly also the devastating loss that so many face.

Any donation will be gratefully received by the charity and Ian and his family would like to express their sincere thanks for any support you can give.