I've been batting some words around in my head for the last two days searching for poetic prose to do justice to my world, my rock, my best friend, my lover and my wife. Alas, there will never be an easy way in which to tell you all that Lisa passed away very peacefully on Monday, March 11th, 2013.
In a way that only Lisa could pull off, she left us in exactly the way she had planned (a year or so ago, I awoke at 5am to find her furiously typing said plan for the end of her natural life). The plan was to be at Trinity Hospice with her husband and parents. The plan was that we would be overlooking the beautiful gardens. The plan was that it would also be peaceful, beautiful, tranquil and pain free. I probably don't need to tell you that Lisa ticked all of those boxes (what can I say? Some people are just so damn talented that they can plan for any eventuality).
We, her family and closest friends, feel complete and utter devastation that is matched only by resounding pride that she was, and will forever be, our girl. For us, it's a time to privately shed tears and to reflect on what she meant and will continue to mean to us. Lisa, I love you with a passion that burns as brightly as you did. Your light will never ever go out.
I'm now going to hand you over to the much more capable hands of
@quarkmonkey who'll share his thoughts and then more anon.
Peter.
Toby, over to you...
A Message for Lisa
Lisa Lynch. It's time I told you a few things, Lisa flipping Lynch.
The truth is, Mac (and yes, you've been branded 'The Mac' for 15 years) is, well the truth is, you've right royally pissed me off.
First off, you should see the emails I've had since I've started looking after alrightttit.com. So many people desperate to tell me how wonderful you are and how you have inspired them and so on and so on…
… no, hang on, that's not why I'm annoyed with you.
OK, let's go back a bit. Remember back at Loughborough University? I was editing the student magazine, and on one dreary Monday night when I was hip-deep in deadlines, you wandered into the office, bright as a button. You'd been to a Bluetones gig the night before and written a review, plus a few other bits and bobs. Would I find them handy, you asked?
Well I did. Because to be frank, you'd written solid gold. But then… just as I was breathing a sigh of relief that The Mac was on the team, you casually mentioned that, actually, you were off to Norway for six months, to wrestle puffins or some such. Remember that? Yeah? Thanks for that. THANKS.
Actually, no, that's not it either.
Alright. Remember how you got to be editor of Real Homes Magazine before your 26th birthday? Remember how everyone watched your career skyrocket once you arrived in London, and all me and Ward could do was humbly joke about biding our time and scrounging a job?
No, that didn't really annoy me actually.
How about when you told us you had breast cancer? Then you took the horror and the fear and the pain you went through and somehow, using that insane work ethic of yours, turned it around? You wrote and wrote and before we knew it, you'd become this brilliant blogger who could reach and inspire thousands of readers. Remember when you got "The 'C' Word" published? And you made me cry like a little girl on the bus home from work as I read it?
Nope. That's not why I'm cheesed off with you right now.
Or when your cancer went into remission? Then, just as we all stopped holding our breath and joined you in looking forward to a life beyond The Bullshit™, you emailed me to say it had returned, and that this time it was terminal? And just a few short weeks later, with a cruel twist of the knife, you told us that the years you promised us were now mere months?
Even that, Lisa bloody chuffing Lynch, isn't why I'm hacked off at you.
No.
Lisa, I'm pissed off with you because, on Monday, just as I was waiting for you to recover from the latest Bullshit™ tsunami, working on this blog and feeling useful, my phone rang.
It was Pete.
"I just wanted to let you know… Lisa passed away this morning at about half past nine."
He told me that you died peacefully with him and your family at your bedside and that you weren't in any pain, and I think every single person reading this will take comfort from that.
But there I stood, numb, phone in hand. What? It didn't compute. Lisa Lynch, stellar overachiever, swearer extraordinaire, grammar scourge, champion kicker of the Bullshit's arse, wasn't invincible after all?
THAT'S why I was so angry.
Except…
Except it's not really true is it? Because, Mac, you are invincible and you always will be. You could have laid back and submitted to The Bullshit's grip and not one person would have thought badly of you. But instead, you shone even brighter and more brilliantly than any of us could have imagined.
This blog is testament to it. Here you remain, a part of everyone who loves you, who cried along with you as the road turned rough and laughed as you wrote with humour and tenderness and life.
You're still right here. You are here in these pages. You are here in the lives we led with you. You're here every time I watch South Park or play "Abbey Road". You're here right now as I write this, nervously second-guessing my own grammar.
So while it seems like you've left behind a loving husband and a devoted family, and an army of friends and followers who cared for you so so deeply, it isn't really true.
And even though I'm angry because I've lost my incredible friend who I loved so very much, it's also pretty obvious to me that you're not going anywhere.
Lisa Lynch. 1979 – 2013.
