Speak Ill of the Dead.

Death is a recurrent if depressing theme to my blog. I have noted many times before that I have seen way too many deaths for a now middle aged, increasingly portly, balding and greying nobody. Also noted before is that we rarely speak ill of the dead. We merely speak ill of the living.

I was deeply saddened to learn yesterday of the death of my friend and former close colleague Sylvia. It was not unexpected giving that she has been fighting cancer for the last 3 years. Last time I saw her she told me of her desperate fear of death, as she put it "you are a long time dead". We spoke on the phone a few weeks ago and it was clear she was nearing the end. That day she had just arrived back from hospital so she was exhausted. It was a short call for that reason. Tragically we never spoke again.

She left the University feeling rejected and disillusioned. Her work in her view dismissed by the power games of others. How ironic then that I learned the news from the very same person who had ushered her career out the door. The tributes were suitably gushing but as I say we never speak ill of the dead.

I feel sad but will move on. I valued her hugely. It will in time become another death in many. Now as I listen to Rossini on the radio the lead played by a man I once knew I can reflect. A night of quiet contemplation away from the TV awaits. More reading I think.

I Heard a Voice.