Charlotte loved our kids. When you're one of those people who come with miniature people as a non-optional extra, it's wonderful to have friends who are as delighted with your kids' company as they are with yours, and Charlotte always was.
My favourite memory of Charlotte is New Year's Eve 2012, when we went, with kids in tow, to a fantastic party at her house. It was very much a grown-up party, but she was overjoyed to see us all, and our three had the time of their lives dancing all night with models and paparazzi. Late in the evening my son broke his glowstick and the stuff inside got in his eyes, causing much pain and screaming. So at five minutes to midnight Charlotte was in the bathroom with me, looking as preternaturally glamorous as a person can look, trying to wash glowstick juice out of his eyes and telling him it was going to be OK.
That was Charlotte. She was just as you thought she'd be, and nothing like you expected. She looked like she came from another planet, where people were cooler and more beautiful and never sweated. But the minute you spoke to her you knew how wonderfully, gloriously of this earth she was.
She was smart and funny and passionate and kind and absolutely ferocious in everything she turned her extraordinary mind to: television, writing, charity, friendship. She stood up for what she believed in a way that most of us can only envy - there was courage in her beyond what I could ever hope to possess.
Charlotte hurled herself at life like a meteor, consuming it in all its beauty and terror and drama and heartbreak. Once you knew her, you couldn't help but want to know her more, talk to her more, learn more about her - she was addictive.
I knew her, perhaps, better than most, and not nearly as well as some. She was a thousand things to a thousand people, and everyone will have a different story about what she meant to them.
What she meant to me was simply this: she was my friend. It's my friend I'll remember, and cry for, and it's my friend I'll be forever grateful for having the chance to know and to love. And in this time of grief and pain, I know that the people who are hurting the most are also the luckiest people of all, because they knew her, and that was a privilege so precious, and so rare, we can rejoice in it, even as we mourn.
10 comments:
That is what people forget.... these "Celebrities" are humans... just like us.
Beautiful tribute Ben.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Ben. thank you for writing about your friend.
So sorry for your loss Ben. Love to you and Bec. I only met Charlotte a couple of times, but I used to chat to her on Twitter, and she was clearly such a beautiful person. I am terribly sad she is gone.
I am so sorry you lost her, and so sorry that she felt that was the only course of action to take. I wish it had not been that way :(
Your writing over 11 years has always invoked a reaction from me in one way or another Ben. As im sure it has many others. I have never read more honest words..and hence more befitting Eulogy than your sentences now. Blessings to all of the spirits left behind. Blessings more so to who's lives were graced by the presence of someone who touched so many . Thankyou for sharing xxxxxx
I never knew her, but I am touched by your comments.
If anyone reading this is contemplating the same course of action, please consider the effect it would have on those who know you.
Perhaps many of them love you without you knowing it.
thank you for writing this Ben. the way you described her, is pretty much how I imagined she would be as a person. I never met her in real life, though she was my friend on twitter (for a while now). I trust that she is at now at peace & in a place where she is surrounded by all that is good. let's all remember her for the warm & generous person she was.
Nice post, Ben. Sorry for your loss.
Nice post, Ben. Sorry for your loss.
Thanks for writing this.. I used to chat to Charlotte a lot on twitter and I miss her! Loved this line... 'She was just as you thought she'd be, and nothing like you expected'
Just beautiful.
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