Liz and I moved onto Hornby around the same time in the early 70's. I was 17 and she was in her early 40's, and while being a grand generation apart she never failed to make that an irrelevant reality. Liz's warmth for all and everything transcended this mere detail, and while I didn't know her well over the years, there was always the sense of close friendship with her in passing, meeting that fine smile and those sparkling eyes. Liz always had a way of making one feel special in her world, and it seems everyone was. I returned from one of my frequent stays in India in 2011 and had the great fortune of being webbed into her cadre of home care support, a lovely position that would last a year and half before she passed away. I spent every Friday and second Saturday night with her over the course of approximately 80 weekends. Lucky me!! Caring for Liz was and honour and most all of those shifts were a virtual love fest, while we both certainly and occasionally had our 'off days'. Walking in the house to be with her I was always greeted by a look of delight and deep affection from her as though it meant the world to her to have me arrive. As her condition declined she rarely complained, and when she did it was completely understandable. Her humour always remained. 'How old are you?', was a common querie of hers. '57 Liz.' 'Oh, I'm 97....or something', was her reply one night. And then with all faculties firing, a wit and humour surprising she simply offered me, 'Or 107.' It was simply one of those moments that erupted in laughter that wouldn't stop and we both reveled in that ultimate humour of hers. I took her for some memorable evening strolls late last summer. It was like strolling with the queen, as people came out of their gardens, stopped their cars and got out for a kiss and hand hold, to be with Liz. I was musing with another caregiver about what it might be that was keeping Liz going with what we both knew for her was deep discomfort in so many ways. This person deduced that Liz was giving us all, family, friends, and caregivers the opportunity to feel true unabashed love. I think she was right. Liz's ability to love and be loved, as common as that might sound, was stellar and a great gift. I can only say, thank you Liz, I hope I gave to you, at least a portion of what you doled out to the world....I'll be back in India at the time of your life celebration and will be sending you a memorial kiss and hand to hold from the Himalayas. with love to you warm heart, Diane Smith