Anne "Annie" Taylor's Obituary
In Loving Memory of Annie Taylor
December 16, 1957 – June 17, 2026
Most people who met my mom assumed she was English. In many ways, she was.
Her accent, wit, love of reading, and so much of who she became were shaped by her years growing up in England. Her education played a huge role in her life. It taught her independence at a young age, introduced her to friendships that lasted a lifetime, and gave her the confidence to step into whatever adventure came next.
Adventure became a theme throughout her life. Born in Kuwait, then sent to boarding school in London at age 8, she went on to work for Pan Am in Saudi Arabia, travel extensively, and eventually make her way to the United States, where our family settled in Germantown. Looking back, it amazes me how many different lives she lived in one lifetime. She experienced more than most people ever will, yet she never talked about those experiences to impress anyone. They were simply chapters in a life she embraced with curiosity.
As remarkable as those adventures were, they weren’t what defined her. It was the people around her. Mom had an incredible ability to make and keep friends. She genuinely loved people. She remembered birthdays, checked in just to see how someone was doing, and had a way of making you feel as if that conversation was the most important part of her day. Some of her friendships lasted more than half a century, spanning continents, careers, and every stage of life.
If you asked me what she was proudest of, though, it wasn’t where she’d been or what she’d done; it was her family.
The older I get, the more I appreciate the little things she did that shaped our childhood. The bedtime stories, the holidays, birthdays, family dinners, and traditions that gave us something to look forward to each year. As a child, I enjoyed them, but as a parent, I understand how much work went into creating those memories.
Becoming a parent made me realize none of those things happened by accident. Mom made them happen. She put more thought into our childhood than I ever realized when I was living it. Looking back now, that’s one of the greatest gifts she ever gave us.
She also believed in us long before we believed in ourselves. She trusted us, too. She didn’t try to solve every problem for us. She gave us room to figure things out, knowing we’d learn more by experiencing life than by having every obstacle removed. Now, as a father, I catch myself trying to give my own daughters that same kind of trust because I know what it did for me.
Mom’s influence reached far beyond our home. I now realize Mom was teaching us long before we knew we were learning. She taught us that relationships matter, your word matters, and to treat others how you’d want to be treated. Those lessons have influenced everything William and I have been part of, but more importantly, they’ve influenced the kind of people we’ve tried to become.
Then came one of the happiest chapters of her life. Becoming a Grandmother. The girls brought out something special in her. William and I noticed that many of the rules we grew up with seemed to disappear once the girls arrived. Somehow, things that would have gotten us into trouble earned a smile from their Grand Annie. Watching her with the girls was one of the greatest joys of recent years.
Travel was something she wanted to share with all of us, as she had learned so much from her own travels growing up. Some of my favorite memories are the ones we made together around the world. Spanning five continents and dozens of countries, there was no shortage of it. Off-roading through the Arabian Desert. Standing on top of the Burj Khalifa. Walking through the Louvre’s. Those trips weren’t just vacations. They changed the way I looked at the world and that’s exactly what Mom hoped they would do.
One of Mom’s favorite reminders was: “There’s no value in regret. Rather, we should remember the time we had together and be thankful.” The older I get, the more I understand why she believed that.
When I think about Mom, I don’t think about one defining moment. I think about hundreds of small ones. I think about her voice reading bedtime stories.
Her cooking. Our evenings together at Farmoor. Trips to Oak Court and Wolfchase Mall.
Summer camps.
Discussions about business.
Conversations over the phone where I’d call to ask her one random question and somehow she’d end up talking about ten other things. Those ordinary moments became an amazing life.
Mom passed away peacefully, surrounded by her family. It was a peaceful ending to a life that was anything but ordinary.
She is survived by her sons, James Taylor and his wife, Keri, and William Taylor and his wife, Loghan; her four granddaughters; family in both the United States and England; and countless friends whose lives are brighter because she was part of them.
If there’s one thing Mom taught us, it’s that a life isn’t measured by titles, possessions, or even the places we’ve been. It’s measured by the people we’ve loved, the friendships we’ve kept, and the family we’ve built.
By that measure, she lived an extraordinary life. We miss her more than words can say. But we’re even more grateful that she was ours.Arrangements have been entrusted to Memorial Park Funeral Home and Cemetery, 5668 Poplar Avenue, Memphis, Tennessee 38119 (901) 767-8930.
“Where Memphis comes to remember, since 1924.”
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