If Tanya was as lucky as me with genes then I reckon no one could guess her age now. She might be stouter and stiffer but her hair could still be its full autumn colour and her fair skin still as freckled as her youth.
However she is only here in our memories. The photos have begun to fade as have details of events but some things remain as bright and vibrant as ever; the goodness of Tanya, her passion, her love, her energy and all that we had in our hearts of her still exists undimmed by our own decline.
I doubt Tanya had much truck with patriotism and the ceremonies of remembrance of sacrifice but she died in the service of others and so deserves to be remembered with honours.
Tanya wouldn't let recent events overshadow her birthday party and many would have been glad for the opportunity to come celebrate a real queen of hearts in a bright respite from the manufactured gloom. Just like Tanya it would have been fun, fulfilling, even perhaps just a bit transgressive, to celebrate by reason and not tradition. So today in Tanya’s name please raise a toast to our queer old dean.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night.
Happy Birthday Tanya.
Here's some more photos of you being bold and beautiful.
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