Holding your familiar hand, I hope you are not feeling afraid, I hope you are not feeling worried about us, I hope you are not feeling anything like as sad to be leaving as we are to lose you. Yesterday you could raise your eyebrows and close your eyes in response to questions. You squeezed my hand in time to the music and produced tiny lopsided smiles for your grandchildren.

Today you feel unreachable and only tiny movements of your eye under your closed lid shows us that you still know us and understand what we are saying. And this means I can still tell you I love you and that I am endlessly proud and grateful that I got to be your daughter, and get first call on your love.

You have always spread your love wide and generously. People in trouble were drawn to you, and you have been utterly fearless in challenging and supporting people to change the way they live. (This could occasionally be tiresome!)

You have shown everyone who knew you how to seek and question and strive; how to stand up for themselves and for others. Your lack of boundaries is legendary and I am sure that it has come as a surprise to many people to find themselves opening up cans of worms and troves of treasure to you. I don’t know anyone who is counted as a most cherished and intimate friend by so many as you have been.

You look far too young for this. It is hard to believe that there will be no more tennis matches, cello performances and games with your grandchildren ahead of you.

We really thought there would be more brisk and beautiful walks, more holidays, more long conversations. Yet in the midst of this, there are many things to be grateful for. Your amazing recovery after your first stroke gave your friends and family five precious months to let you know how well and widely you are loved.

We saw the very best of you as you stunned and delighted us with your determination to recover and your astonishing progress. This time has brought your children together more than ever before and helped us to realise that we could support one another through difficult times, following your extraordinary example.

Perhaps most importantly of all, you talked to each of us extensively about death and about your wishes should there be another stroke, which meant that we were all on the same page when making decisions for you. So when I hold your hand, I know that being allowed to embrace a natural death is your wish. I can be confident that you are not afraid, and not too worried about us.

And as for sadness … that is the price we all pay for love.

Your daughter,

Fiona