Thoughts of Charlotte
Richard Bentwood, 29 May 2005
Spoken at prayers
When I sat down to think about what I was going to say this evening and I started thinking about Charlotte, and the type of person she was there were three things in particular that struck me and that I particularly remember about her.
Firstly, that she was interested in people, and if not interested then concerned, or worried or even neurotic. When I think back to the funeral, and the hundreds of people that were there, together with all the people who have been at the Shiva's since then it doesn't surprise me for it proves what I already new to be true.
That when charlotte talked to you it was more than in a social way, she was deeply interested in what you had to say. She made a connection with all those she saw because she was so interested in you. So when I see faces that I haven't seen for going on 20 years it doesn't surprise me that Charlotte remained friends with them. She was not like many people who gather friends and acquaintances during life and lose contact with them along the way but rather kept on to them, because they were important to her. And for those of us who were fortunate enough to know her, they were also fortunate that she would count on them as her friend as did all who knew her.
I remember her energy. The kind of energy which caused her to roller blade in a post natal state to art galleries and museums, carrying an infant Solly with her. The type of energy which means that where one person, after putting down the kids and doing the housework may be grateful for 15 minutes off but not Charlotte. She would consider this merely an opportunity to get some things from Brent Cross, and she would go as well.
It also gives me some relief to consider that unlike many older people who may look back on their life with regrets, that could never be said of Charlotte. For she lived her life such that she squeezed every second, out of every minute, out of every hour of every day.
And finally I remember her smile. That wonderful smile which seemed to be powered by a spotlight just under her skin. I remember how when she turned it on you, you could bask in its radiance and things would seem a littler bit better, a little bit brighter through her presence. It was a smile which wouldn't permit unhappiness near it and when in its company, you would find yourself smiling alongside with her.
And so when Martin asks you not to cry today, but to celebrate her life with a smile, and if you think that a tall order, as some may do, then you might do as I do and think of her smile and before you know it, you will find yourself smiling too.