… & no bread recipes either.
I’ve just got back from Wellington, where I helped to celebrate the life, & mourn the death, of someone who’d been a good & valued friend for 30 years (& who introduced me to the joys of playing the recorder properly, & the books of Ursula le Guin). For the last 4 years & 10 months of that time, Deb lived with metastatic breast cancer. She knew that it would kill her in the end, but with the help & support & love of her family, friends, & oncologist she fought against it as long as she could. And because of this she was able to see her daughters grow through that awkward teenage phase into strong, talented, resilient young women.
And through it all shone her zest for life, her love for her husband & children & family, her concern for others, her care for the environment, her social conscience, her love of music & reading & gardening. We heard so much about that today; these were things that defined her as a person. Deb moved through life with love & laughter, integrity, dignity, & a lightness of spirit, & these things were with her & around her when she died.
Farewell, my dear, brave friend.
Tamsin says:
I’m revisiting this post, a decade after Mum’s death, because it still means a lot to me, and I want to thank you for writing it. I’ve kept it bookmarked because sometimes I need a small reminder of the ripples that Mum made in the world, outside of our immediate family.
Thank you.
Alison says:
Oh Tamsin! Thank you so much for coming by to say this. I’m all teary. I think of Debbie often still, especially when Die Moldau is playing on my spotify listing, or I read something by Ursula le Guin (an author she introduced me to). Your Mum touched the lives of so very many people; she made some big ripples in the world & she’ll be in our hearts for a long while yet.