I must have seen Aunty Olive briefly at Dad's funeral in 1993, but had, I think, not talked with her since twice in the late '60s. I clearly remember both occasions - quite obviously because here was a lady really worth knowing. When Sally told me in the spring that Olive was now a lively 93 year old and a very welcome new member of  Richard's household, I wanted to write her a letter, and finally conquered my laziness. It was simply one of the most delightful surprises of the year when she then rang me from the hospital, full of enthusiasm for a chat. Rest in peace, dear Aunty Olive.