Monday 23.3.09

Got up early to drop Nick off to a meeting. I'm glad I did manage to get up, its too long since I've had to. I waited for him in McDonalds, reading about Jade Goodie who died yesterday. The papers were filled with tributes and pictures. I found my eyes tearing, thinking of what would have happened if our family member S has died of her cancer, glad that she has gone on to live another seventeen years and that statistically she is cured. Thinking of all those who live and die with cancer.

Opinion on Jade is so divided among the public. Some people have written truly horrid stuff along the lines that Jade deserved to die, while some are mourning her loss as they would one of their own. I found myself comforting a friend on Facebook, she was upset at the hate messages directed at Jade. The more I surfed, the more it became apparent that the division seems to be class based with the liberal intelligentsia adopting the negative approach, and the shop workers offering the compassionate - and I might say polite - response. I don't think I say this because I admired Jade who was blessed with no excessive intelligence, beauty, or talent and who lacked the benefits of a good education and upbringing, yet made the most of every opportunity life afforded. She was a success on her own terms, earning a good living, taking care of her family, finding love and friendship. Above all that, she was able to publicly own her failings and errors when she could have turned and hid away.

To contradict myself a little, the comment I value the most was from Stephen Fry's Twitter,

" stephenfryPoor, dear Jade. She was a fellow guest on @wossy a year or so back & I warmed to her immensely. All impulsive spirit & smiles. What a life Jade lived life under a magnifying (sic)glass. Magnifying glasses magnify (obviously) but they distort and they burn. "

I should have learned from Jade, but naturally, I didn't make the most of the day. My mood went from manic humour, chattering to Facebook mates (and to Rich about Edinburgh plans), then down into a bleary low which I tried to walk off with a supermarket dash. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I feel depression damns me.