[Originally posted on Facebook by Fi's nephew, Phil]

My uncle John shared a link with me earlier and, now I'm done with work for the day, I thought I would take a moment to pause and reflect.

My auntie Fiona died peacefully in hospital two sundays ago, aged 62. She had Cystic Fibrosis, which was only diagnosed when she was five - at which time medical wisdom suggested she wouldn't make it into her teens, much less out of them.

Had that been true, I never would have known her. But I did.

Fi was a sort of 'in-between' aunt - only 14 years older than me, and about that much younger than her brother (my Dad), David, and sister, Lois. So - despite a lot of coughing and thumping sounds I didn't really understand at the time - she seemed a bit more lively and fun than the rest of the adults in the room.

She liked the squeaky Bee Gees, I remember that. And her long hair.

It's funny, I don't have a smell for Fiona, like you often do. What I do have is a laugh - a throaty (chesty?) chuckle, with a hint of Ah! Ah! Ah! - and a twinkle, a wicked twinkle in her eye. Which is funny too, because if there was ever anyone about whom nothing - not one part - was wicked, it was Fi.

Our family has a strong Christian faith, passed down from my grandparents (missionaries all) to parents, aunts and - when John married Fi - uncle. He brought his own, by way of Plymouth Brethren if I recall correctly. That was fun too, the wedding; pushing straws together under the table to make a giant long one that we could stick in someone's bubbly...

Yes, Fi got married. "Dead before her teens"... ha!

Some years later, John married me and Molly - a momentus occasion for us, of course, and I suppose another 'never-expected-to-see milestone' ("nephew getting married") for auntie Fi.

By far the most important milestone in Fi and John's life together, though, was the birth of Craig - my one and only cousin. Craig, in whose smile - though nowadays somewhat obscured by a stupendous beard - and eyes I have caught sight of that ever-so-familiar twinkle. Craig who, at Fi's passing, was in (the same) hospital himself for surgery. Craig, who if I quote:

"It's been an...interesting...week in hospital so far. Down 5 toes, Mum dying. Not entirely what I was expecting when I turned up here 7 days ago, but these things seldom are."

you'll see inherited some of his Mum's deep strength of character as well as her humour.

Other moments? Happy holidays in Cornwall; sandy beaches, chicken in a basket, knickerbocker glories... an electric organ, boxes stuffed with pills, more BeeGees(?) and - years later - Newquay Steam Beers with Mike. Dear Mike.

Other milestones? Telling Fi and Lois they were going to be Great-Aunties; happy tears... and in later years, *more* holidays in Cornwall, and rides on Epiphany (MY KEYS!!!) with first Dom, then Nathaniel.

I mentioned our family faith, a faith that was strong in Fi - and her in it. I don't share that, but I cherish it. And hope there is a God, without hypocrisy, for if there is... Fi is loving Him still, and being loved by Him forever.

I've met very few people in my life whose deaths could have made me say that last bit. I'm glad one of them was my aunt.

It's late. I need some sleep.

I'll see John and Craig, and Lucie, Lois, Dad and others at Fi's funeral but for now I'll post this, and next week bring my part of Fiona with me to her Memorial and Celebration, to share with others the life she lived so wonderfully. So fully. And with such grace.

Goodnight, auntie Fi.