A good friend and colleague of mine died yesterday. She was an inspirational educator and only fifty two. An aggressive cancer killed her, just over a year after the first diagnosis, despite surgery and chemotherapy. I did what I could to help her, but it could never be enough. In the end she slipped away with frightening speed while I was on the other side of the world. There was nothing I could have done, but I wanted at least to be there, and I wasn’t.
And here I am now in New Zealand, on a glorious spring day, trying to distract myself with trivia about the new book, but in the end the only things that really matter are friendship, love and kindness. I’m remembering my friend, and wishing she had lived a little longer to realise some of the plans she had made for a brief spell of happiness.