My most vivid memory of my Aunt Cynthia is her kindness the day Princess Diana died. She and  Uncle Lionel hosted us at their Birmingham UK home that late August Sunday in 1997 when my husband, Brian and I were in town on business.

I had been more angry than sad to hear of Diana’s unnecessary and  untimely passing but mellowed as our hosts produced a mass of pictures showing them together at local civic events. Their contact had been through their own involvement in public life and that afternoon Cynthia, then in her late 70s, drove us and Lionel through gentrified Birmingham and  was allowed to park in an area reserved for VIPs. We were further amazed that Lionel navigated us through the warren of streets that makes up Brum’s centre – not because of his age – but because he was registered blind.

I muse on this following Cynthia’s own recent passing and recall how she and Lionel, despite being slightly senior to my own parents survived them – and Diana! – by more than a decade.

It makes me shiver to acknowledge that my generation is quite definitely the ’oldies’ now!