EULOGY : by Jacqie Carr Taylor

Friend Sylvia

I’d like to share a little of what it meant to have Sylvia as one of my closest friends over the past 19 years.

Through orchestra, skiing and beyond, Sylvia became a soul mate, a pillar, always there through the best of times as well as the worst of times.

She was a travelling companion, a confidante, a wise friend who loved me enough to help me examine life's challenges from the point of view of others, not just my own, helping me to move on.

I have so many memories to cherish:
Singing with friends gathered round a piano at an orchestra weekend.
Putting the world to rights on a ski lift or in a bar, or looking down on the beautiful people from her flat whilst chewing over brunch and the Saturday Guardian.
Finding the time to fit in my birthday every year; enjoying gatherings of her many, many friends for hers.
Trips to a ballet, opera, cinema or gallery.
Arguing about definitions and despairing at misplaced apostrophes.
Sharing photos and tales of far off places.
Dancing and drinking and, always, talking.
Bemoaning the lack of formal etiquette for how exactly you inform friends you have cancer.
Laughing at the absurdity of even the bleakest of times.

Sylvia being Sylvia came to question why we uniquely refer to treating cancer as a “battle”. She might not have agreed with it being called a fight, but no one could question her fighting spirit, getting every last precious drop out of life to the end.

And yet, despite the challenges thrown at her over these last 3 years, Friend Sylvia was always there to listen to my trivial woes, never losing patience, ever sympathetic, unfailingly generous and wise.

My life has been infinitely richer with Sylvia in it.

Friend Sylvia:
Inspiring, intrepid, defiantly intelligent.
Warm, witty, dependably wise.
Verbal sparring, salsa dancing.
All embracing.
Life enhancing