Forever young

Christmas Eve 1994

I'd just popped out to the local shops to get some veg and when I returned Husband was in the kitchen. He said, "Andrew phoned. Anne died this morning."

I stared at Husband. Then I shook my head. "No, no, she wouldn't do that. She'd hang on until after Christmas. For the children."

Husband put his arms around me and hugged me.

Anne had been ill for two years with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. She also had four sons under thirteen, two of them best friends with my boys. She was a teacher but before the lymphoma she lost her voice and was off school for some time. It was then she befriended me.

Of course we knew each other because of our sons but she took time to invite me to places and get to know me. She was becoming a real friend when she was diagnosed.

As the illness took hold everything that could go wrong went wrong but through it all Anne was able to find something to laugh about. She was special. At her funeral the crowds in the church were matched only by the crowds outside unable to get in. It was a privilege to know her.

I've been thinking about her a lot this Christmas, I don't know why particularly. I have lots of acquaintances but don't make friends easily.

Anne had the sort of spirit that made you think she couldn't die, wouldn't die.

She was thirty-nine when she took her last holiday, camping under electricity pylons as only Anne could. When she came home she showed me a rather expensive candle she'd bought, in the shape of the numbers 4 and 0. She justified the cost by saying, "If I make it to forty it will be worth celebrating."

She didn't and I still miss her.