Muriel Fields, or Aunty Mu, as she was known, died a little over a week ago. She was a lovely woman, full of warmth and love. She often took care of me, aged 11, when I was going through a series of tests, and later operations, for the great pain I was feeling in my head. I learned a lot about pain from this wonderful lady. I remember hearing about the crippling pain she experienced because of the arthritis in her hands. She told me of her late husband, a great friend dearly missed.

Even at that young age I was fully aware that my pain made me selfish. I longed for sympathy, if not empathy. Whoever had ears to listen would hear about the injustice of my pain. As I looked into those joyful, loving eyes of Aunty Mu I saw someone who knew about battling pain, and yet seemed to have more compassion and love for others than anyone else I knew.