For my Aunt Ailsa, I could write a tome. Full of the moments of kindness and generosity that were given so selflessly, and so warmly, and so utterly without condition.
I could write a chapter on how she and Uncle Tasos, and my counsins, put up with my dramatic antics as a child, allowing me to stand on chairs and recite speeches from films, forceably commited to my memory by my uncle Neil. A platform given, and a bright smile received - encouragement given to a small child that meant so much.
I could write a chapter on how she continued to support me, and so many others. She gave me work, she gave me responsibility, and she allowed me to grow up. She treated me like a proper person. She again, as before, gave me a platform. I recall that she allowed me to make presentations to her team, suggest new business approaches, taking valuable time out of the day. None of this was necessary, what could I possibly know? The truth is, not very much, and Aunt Ailsa almost certainly knew this, but she didn't let me know that. She pulled everyone in. She gave me materials, she gave me that moment. She believed in me, as she beleived in so many others. She congratulated me, and encouraged me. I felt like a million dollars. She gave me that, wholly selflessly, because she knew that it was a good thing to do.
I could write a chapter on how these moments were not just confined to points in time where it would be convenient, but instead consistently continued like clockwork through life. Aunt Ailsa would check in with me repeatedly, emailing to ask how my work was going, if I was happy with my path in life, that she was proud of me. It is difficult to set out in words how much this really meant to me, or indeed how much the memory of it now means. It may seem to some that these gestures are small, or for a lucky few commonplace, but to my mind these are the representations of a truly good person.
With a heavy heart, I could right a chapter on regret - regret for not ever taking the time to express any of the above. There's always another day, until there isn't.
To Aunt Ailsa: I pray from the bottom of my heart, that in some small way this message might reach you, and you might know how much you meant to me, and how all you did has left a lasting, and undiminishable, imprint upon me. I can only imagine that this is true for so many others, in their own unique ways. Thank you for everything you were. Please know that I will try to do all in my life that I can to continue your spirit of encouragement, opportunity, support, generosity and warmth.
All my love
Harry