Yvonne Olive Hayes — Our British Rose, Our Nanny

93-year-old Yvonne Olive Hayes, known to those who loved her as Mum or Nanny, left this world on August 13, 2026, exactly the way she lived in it—surrounded by love, laughter, and a proper Guinness toast because, as she reminded us often, “it’s good for you.” In the gracious Melbourne, Florida home of her eldest son, Gene, and daughter‑in‑law, Connie, our British Rose slipped away peacefully, wrapped in the same gentleness she spent a lifetime giving to others.

Nanny was a dedicated wife, mother, grandmother, great‑grandmother, friend, educator, knitter extraordinaire, cookie supplier, and unofficial neighborhood therapist. She had that rare gift of making you feel like you were her favorite, even though she somehow managed to have hundreds of favorites. Her kitchen was always full of cookies, her knitting needles always clicking, her phone line always busy, and her eyes always “just resting” after a long day of caring for everyone else. She loved a good shopping spree at Bealls, a spicy Panang curry, and staying current on absolutely everything—well into her 90s.

Born October 26, 1932 on the East Side of Depression‑era London, Yvonne grew up in a city of sharp contrasts: hunger and hardship on one street, the London Philharmonic and early BBC broadcasts on the next. These contrasts shaped her—equal parts grit and grace, Cockney humor and Queen‑level poise. She minded her ps and qs, but her life was far too exciting for pomp and circumstance.

At just eight years old, London was blitzed by those “bloody Nazis,” and young Yvonne was shipped Narnia‑style to the countryside with two other little girls. She barely had time to look for the Lion, the Witch, or even the Wardrobe before her parents secured special permission to bring her home—someone had to take over knitting socks in the bomb shelter, a job her mother Julie despised and happily passed on; and her mother would soon give birth to Yvonne’s brother, John.

Yvonne spent the rest of the war helping care for her baby brother, knitting wool socks for soldiers, warning her mother of incoming bombers while playing in the garden, and cooking for troops when her family was evacuated along the seaside. One American soldier, a Sgt. William Fink even wrote to her in 1944, thanking her for her kindness, saying, “I'm glad to hear that you pray for us boys. We appreciated all your kind caring during our time in England. Take good care of yourself and luck to you also.”

These formative years forged her into a caregiver who embodied the British spirit: Keep Calm and Carry On.

Yvonne was preceded in death by her hunky American Airman husband, Jack Hayes, who swept her off her feet during yet another seaside adventure in the early 1950s. Their coming of age love story came complete with a London wedding, a baby boy (Gene Vincent Hayes), and a voyage across the pond on the Queen Mary. She arrived in New York City ready for adventure—only to discover, after a very long train ride into the hollers of West Virginia, that America was not quite what she expected. But in true Nanny fashion, she adapted, embraced, and mastered Appalachian life: learning from her mother-in-law how to cook roast beef, roasted potatoes, fresh veggies, and molasses cookies that became legendary across generations.

She is survived by her three sons—Gene (Connie) Hayes, William (Jennifer) Hayes, and Sean Hayes—all of whom she spent decades trying to get to “just behave.” She adored their wives, ex-wives, and partners, maintaining lifelong relationships with Cynthia Broome and Lisa Catino, because once you were loved by Nanny, you stayed loved. She is also survived by her brother, John Haynes whom she continued caring for well into young adulthood, sponsoring his travel to America in high school and welcoming him into the home she shared with Jack.

For 30 years, she worked at Eau Gallie High School, running attendance and in‑school suspension with a firm hand and a soft heart. She was a devoted member of St. John’s Episcopal Church, her sewing guild, and the legendary Twisted Stitchers of old Eau Gallie. Trips to Publix often took an hour longer because former students and friends needed to know what Yvonne was “up to now.”

After raising three rotten boys, she was rewarded with lovely granddaughters and sweet grandsons: Paul MacDonald, Stacey Urrutia, Courtney (Trenton) Hansen, Nina Hayes, Michael Hayes, Austin (Terisa) Broome, Niccoli Roberts, Michelle Powell, and Lesa Powell. She relished in getting to see her great‑grandchildren grow into big kids: Hunter Hansen, Troy Hansen, Cora Hansen, Audrey Broome, and Olivia Broome. Upon her passing, Troy asked, “Who will knit back together my monkey now?”—a question that perfectly captures the irreplaceable magic of Nanny.

And so we come full circle: A girl who knit socks in a bomb shelter grew into a woman who knitted together a family—across continents, across generations, across every challenge life threw her way.

She carried on. She cared deeply. She loved fiercely. And she left us all with a reason to live life well.

Raise a Guinness. Mind your ps and qs. Just behave (or at least try). And remember our British Rose—unforgettable, ever-curious, and forever our Nanny.

The family extends our deepest gratitude to Gene and Connie, who cared for Nanny with extraordinary devotion during her final year. They gave her comfort, dignity, laughter, and the kind of gentle daily presence that only true love can provide. Our family is forever grateful for the way they honored her life every single day.

We also wish to thank VITAS Hospice of Melbourne, whose team immediately recognized what a treasure Nanny was. Their compassion, respect, and tenderness made her final months peaceful and full of grace. In lieu of flowers, we invite donations to VITAS Hospice of Melbourne, so their remarkable care can continue supporting other families.

A memorial service will be held at St. John’s Epsicopal Church on Saturday, November 28th at 1 p.m.

Condolences and memories for the family may be made online at www.davisseawinds.com.