Hansard

Thank you, Presiding Officer. Thank you, too, for the personal support that you have given to me and the family, not just in the past couple of weeks but in inquiring after Christina’s health for so many months. I also thank the First Minister, not only for doing the same thing—constantly expressing concern for Christina’s health—but for the way that he was able to manage her absence from Government and, crucially, for his two visits to the hospital, the first of which had a huge impact on Christina’s family, who were there at the time.

I also thank the members of the SNP group for their support over many months. I know that you are all hurting, as we are. I thank the party leaders and all those who have spoken. There is not a great deal left for me to say. You have hit all the right notes with regard to who Christina was and what she was about.

It might be invidious to do so, but I would like to quickly mention three people. Kirsty in the coffee bar, who has already been mentioned, was always keen to hear about how Christina was doing. Similarly, Edward Mountain always inquired after Christina, notwithstanding his own issues with cancer. I also thank Jamie Greene, not just for what he said today but for the fantastic card that he sent to Christina. He and I know what was in that card, and that will stay between us.

I also thank our constituents and all the groups that have been in touch. It was an absolutely incredible response.

Christina was everything that people have said of her today. She genuinely was—I know that, sometimes, after somebody passes away, lots of things are said, but she was all those things. She was a feminist, a staunch supporter of the LGBTQ community, and a staunch supporter of Travellers when many people were not. I know that this is contentious, but it would not be true not to say it: Christina was a trans ally. Christina supported trans people.

She was also, of course—it is no surprise to anybody to hear me say this—a very staunch supporter of independence. Christina loved Scotland, its people, its culture and its history, but she also knew that many other people who did not believe in independence felt similarly strongly about their country. That is why we saw such an absence of malice and vindictiveness on the part of Christina.

It has been mentioned that Christina came from Easterhouse. She was extremely proud of the fact that she came from Easterhouse. She received some really snide comments when she was first elected—misogynistic and classist comments—but those people did not know the real Christina. I think that that is where she imbibed her values of social justice. Many of us learn those things, quite legitimately, when we read or learn about politics, but social justice was instinctive to Christina. It is who she was.

She was also an artist—a very gifted artist. She was a poet: she wrote a fantastic poem for our granddaughter, Maeve, when she was born. She loved to travel. She loved to swim in a warm ocean. She was not for sitting by the pool—she wanted to be in the ocean. She loved science. A tribute was paid to her by David Blanchflower, the astrophysicist, on Twitter, who said that he felt that he had lost somebody who was extremely intelligent and fearless. She was also a very gifted photographer.

I always thought Christina to be a stunningly attractive woman, but the real measure of Christina was not how she looked; it was in her mind and in her heart. She never walked by on the other side. I think of the number of times when we were out that she would stop by somebody in the street, to give them money, food or her time. One time in Campbeltown, a drunken man had fallen down and she would not leave his side until the ambulance came. Another time, a mother who had just given birth to a child had no money for a pram. Christina bought one, and also the bedclothes to go with it.

Christina loved a cup of tea: black, two sweeteners. This will underline the point that I just made: once, in the hospital, I asked Christina whether she wanted a cup of tea. It was not a great time for Christina. Unusually, I was the only person with her in the hospital at the time. She said, “Yes, please, but make sure everyone else has got one.” There was nobody else in the room, but it was her instinct to say that.

I want to reassure people—those who loved her the most—that during the last week or so, Christina was never on her own. At every point, 24 hours a day, members of her family sat with her, held her hand and told her that she was loved. She was surrounded by love in that last week.

When she was first elected, Christina went to an event in central Scotland. She met an MP from a different party—or, rather than met him, she saw him, a large man, haranguing a young woman who was a Scottish Government communications officer and shouting at her. She stormed over and stood between them. She said, “Your size, your shouting and your toxic masculinity don’t intimidate me, so you can back off.” I think it was “back off” that she said—it was something like that. [Laughter.] If you were going to intimidate a woman, you did not do it around Christina McKelvie.

She was, as we have heard, very proud to be an MSP and a Government minister. When she became a minister, I wrote on Twitter a line from Simon and Garfunkel:

“Sail on, silver girl ... Your time has come to shine.”

Christina sparkled and she shone.

In the chamber, she never hated anybody. I remember that the worst thing I heard her say was to a Tory MSP. She asked why, if he had come to engage her in a battle of wits, he had come unarmed. It was meant in good humour and it was taken in good humour.

Liz Smith will remember the endless Thursday morning education debates in that session. In one of her contributions, Christina managed to get virtually every ABBA title into her contribution. She was great fun.

Christina and I apparently first spoke in 2001. I do not remember it, but, of course, Christina, who had a mind like a steel trap, remembered it. I was the leader of Clackmannanshire Council. Two of her members, who she was representing, had been arrested at Faslane, and she wanted to make sure that their employer, Clackmannanshire Council, did not further penalise them. She made sure that that did not happen. She recollects saying that she found me to be opinionated and cocky, which just goes to show that, sometimes, Christina could be wrong as well. [Laughter.]

In 2007, at a pre-election rally for SNP candidates in Napier University, I just thought that she was a stunningly attractive woman and way, way out of my league. Then I became a committee convener and Christina was on the committee. I found a way to try to get on her good side, because she hated being called Christine—apologies to Christine Grahame, if she is here. I was the person who jumped down the throat of anybody who had the audacity to call her Christine, in a bid to impress her, as her defender. I am not sure whether it worked, but it was 18 months before we got together. Christina’s phrase for that is, “We found love in a hopeless place.” [Laughter.]

I have often thought of Christina as a star. People have talked about how much fun she was. To me, she was glamorous, she was sparkly and she was fun. Of course, planets revolve around stars. I just do not know what a planet does when its star has been extinguished.

She was a credit to her two sons, Lewis and Jack, and she took such pride in her grandchildren, Leo and Maeve. They will never be allowed to forget Christina. She was a credit to her community, to Easterhouse, to the Scottish Government, to this Parliament and to Scotland. She was more beautiful inside than outside, and, apart from my children, Christina McKelvie was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Thank you. [Applause.]