EULOGY: by Annabel Kapp

Sylvia was born in April 1970 at the time of the pear blossom – as our mother often said.  That summer we moved to Hove, to a house with a large garden and a sandpit, climbing frame and trampolines made by our father. She would play happily and imaginatively on her own - a favourite game being Silverella and her 2 horrible bossy sisters. I can’t think where she got that idea from.

My earliest vivid memories of Sylvia are from when she was a toddler. I played with her like she was my doll, dressing her up to have tea with Belinda’s teddy Helen.  I also remember her running into the front garden to greet me from school, and scooping her up in my arms thrilled she was so pleased to see me, while she sunk her sharp little teeth into my shoulder in all the excitement.

Sylvia’s blonde hair and blue eyes captured huge attention when we lived in Saudi Arabia. Locals would crowd around us in the Souks wanting to touch her hair. She wasn’t phased at all by this attention.

Being the youngest Sylvia always had to catch up and continually face not being as good at things as her 2 older sisters. Something we did not let her forget! Our mother, also the youngest of 3, felt this keenly so Sylvia was allowed dispensation from certain family rules and tasks. It felt very unfair to me and Belinda when she did not have to do her share of washing up and was allowed to eat white bread and not like onions! Desperately trying to keep up came at quite a cost. Sylvia had many accidents particularly as a young girl, and I remember hearing her screaming and my heart sinking as I thought “oh no what has she done now?” Aged 7 we went on a sailing holiday with her entire leg in a plaster cast and each time we went in the dingy it had to be put in a plastic bag. We were not a family to be deterred by such things.

Musically she shone. I remember us marvelling at her aged about 3, picking out the tune to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star note perfect on the piano. Belinda would test her perfect pitch, never catching her out. We often played music together as a family, most memorably in a concert in the music room in Brighton Pavilion. She played the piano, violin and recorder to grade 8 standard, regularly competed in local music festivals and led the Brighton Youth Orchestra in her teens. Although she did well academically at school it wasn’t until she joined the Youth Orchestra that she felt she really found herself and not only was leader but also one of the main organisers of social events. She was fun loving and included everyone. Apparently the parties at our home were legendary! She repeated this later with the Lawyers Music symphony orchestra, which she joined through Belinda.

Her close family was of immense importance to her and she was a huge support to Belinda in particular. She was a loving and attentive auntie looking out for her nieces and nephews and seeing things from their perspective. She kept up with all her many cousins and the wider family. In adulthood her friends took on a similar significance and she had an extraordinary number of good friends from all areas of her life.

We’ve long recognised that Belinda is most like our mother, me like our father, and Sylvia was a good mix of both. She, like our mother, lived simply and did not buy unnecessary things, and like our father she went out into the world as a passionate activist and debater, championing causes she believed in. She did spend money on travel however and was very adventurous, although she later admitted that some of her more intrepid back packing trips were to prove herself. For her first solo trip, aged 18, Belinda managed to talk her out of South America into a more manageable Australia. Over the years she explored the silk route, Pakistan, Djibouti, Bolivia, Yemen, Cambodia and Vietnam among other places. She kept in touch with many travellers she met along the away. One friend posted on Sylvia’s blog that she was unflappable even when being shot at by Khmer Rouge guerrillas in Cambodia  - something she had kept very quiet from the family.


Sylvia read Psychology at Nottingham University. She then moved into her Parson’s Green flat and trained as a hypnotherapist, working in a complementary health centre a stone’s throw from here. She quickly realised that she wanted to have a greater impact on people’s lives and work within the NHS, helping people with much more serious challenges.  She showed incredible determination in applying 3 years running to her chosen Clinical Psychology course before being accepted. It is a course known for it’s anti-establishment views towards the profession and with an ethos that was personally challenging and self-reflective. It was perfect for Sylvia. She got a doctorate in Clinical Psychology at the University of East London in 2004 and was very proud of being another Dr Kapp. When her cancer forced her to quit, she was counselling people who had just been diagnosed as HIV positive.

Sylvia’s diagnosis of secondary liver cancer 3 years ago was devastating to all of us, especially as our mother had died from the same condition 10 years earlier. However Sylvia faced it with unbelievable courage, researching her condition meticulously, knowing all the drug names and even researching how she might die. To say she was an informed patient is probably an understatement!

She also did a huge amount of work emotionally and opened up to much less tangible ways of healing and new ways of seeing the world. She never wanted her life to just be about cancer and during her illness she completed a postgraduate certificate in International Humanitarian Psychosocial Consultation. She also went skiing twice, had spa breaks and weekends away on the continent and attended an intensive course in Skyros, Greece. Last spring she went to a friends wedding in the US with no medical insurance, as well as making frequent trips to Germany and Scotland for treatments.

This summer Sylvia had decided to write a paper with her therapist about the psychological challenges of being a person with cancer. She was very excited by this but it was not to be. However her blog has certainly helped many better understand how it is to live with cancer. It is a huge gift and legacy.

Sylvia inspired so many people with the way she lived her life. She really did not want to let go and leave us, though she accepted it at the end. She told me she wanted us to feel uplifted when sending her off - so it feels important that I end on a note of celebration. As her close friend Tim put it:

“What a dazzling life there is to celebrate,

so adventurous and fulfilled.”