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The death of a writer

I want to repost this poignant blog entry written by a very dear friend of mine about the recent death of her mother in law in England. I, too, spent time with this amazing woman when I was there for my friend’s wedding four years ago. We went to hear opera streamed live in an ancient court yard, intoxicated by the stars, crystalline music, wine and chocolate. She regaled me with stories of British politics where she was a journalist, and introduced me to all the cultural wonders of London. This is a beautiful and sensitively written story of my friend’s first experience with death – worthy of sharing.

So you want to be a writer?

My mother in law died last Friday. She was a political journalist, an author, a spin doctor, and an enthusiastic and determined force of nature. Her life stretches back in time to Darjeeling where her mother was born to a violinist playing for the British diplomatic delegation, through war ridden Europe, weaving in and out of death, victory, prosperity, tragedy, loss, triumph-and decades of hard work culminating in a glittering career that was awarded with an M.B.E. by H.M Queen Elizabeth II.

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