The enduring love of friendship

It's been a difficult couple of weeks. One of my closest friends has passed away. I loved her so dearly. She was one of the only people in my life who could tell me the truth, just like it is, in such a way that it would make me smile.There was never any malice or judgement in her observations, just love and what's more, she was always right.

We said goodbye to her this week at her funeral,  a very lovely send off. Off course it would be because, bless her, she had written a list for the vicar. Her casket was made with wicker and it wouldn't have surprised me if she had made it herself because she was gifted in all that she turned her hand to, playing harp, spinning, weaving, sewing... and brilliant in a very unassuming way.

Me: This is lovely wool, where did you get it?

Her: Oh, I spun it myself.

Me: Wow, I love this silk paper

Her: Oh yes, I made it myself

And always sharing her gift by teaching others. She was a fine harpist but more than that, she wanted to preserve the harp, particularly here in West Wales and so she set up the Welsh branch of Clarsach harp society. In fact, that's how I met her. I was running Celtic Womenfest for the National Botanic Garden of Wales in the Great Glasshouse and she was teaching harp over in the Gallery. We hit it off immediately and have been great friends ever since.

She taught so many of us how to play harp, touring all over Europe. Funny thing is, she was such a tiny little person that you could barely see her behind her harp, but you could hear her and feel all of her heart in her strings. In the video above, we are playing in Lower Normandy a piece entitled The Tethered Fairyring which I wrote for ukulele. She was passionate about preserving music and convinced me that we should notate the piece for future generations, which she kindly did for me. We had such a wonderful time working on it together that we took it to France to launch it, staying at an Artist's Retreat.

This last year as she battled with her health, we started less demanding adventures, spinning wool together, sewing little books together, enthusing over old button tins and generally putting the world to rights over a cuppa.

Although we were close, we never really talked about it, but the last time I visited her, the day before she took a turn for the worse, she stood on the doorstep of her home as I was leaving and I turned back as I walked up the drive ... 'I love you' I called to her ... 'and I love you' she said. We smiled and waved our goodbyes. It was the first time we had told each other, neither of us knowing that it would be the last thing we said. 

I share this personal story with you so that you feel inspired to tell those you love, what they mean to you. We none of us know when it will be our time, only that one day, it will be.

Susan Berry, thank you with all my heart for being my friend. Off course, darling, dying doesn't let you off the hook ... you are still  my friend and I will, no doubt, talk with you often and off course, love you forever xxx