*...takes deep breath*
*...tries to channel inspiration from Jane...*
Ok, here goes:
Second, and, given that Jane was a consummate fundraiser, she'd approve of this bit, a lot of people have asked how they can make some sort of donation in Jane's memory. Beating Bowel Cancer became like a family to us, offering support, love, laughs (yes, really) and wisdom. Jane asked that I do what I can to raise funds for them in her memory. So I've set up this page: uk.virginmoneygiving.com/rememberingjane. We (and the charity) would be hugely grateful for any donations.
And I also promised some news on an event to remember Jane. We're actually having two events next week. The first will be a cremation on Wednesday, which will be for close friends and family. We will also be having a celebration of her life which we will be holding at Battersea Dogs and Cats Home on the afternoon of Friday 7 February. I'm afraid we only have space for 150 people, and will be getting in touch with about 125 or so friends, family and colleagues over the next day or two. The sharpest readers will have spotted that leaves 25 places. Given how eclectic and varied a mix of friends and interests Jane had, we'd like to offer up those places to the many people who touched Jane's life and who would like to say goodbye. So if you swapped anecdotes on the Beating Bowel Cancer forum; if you were moved by Jane's activism at Warwick University (and, frankly, who wasn't?); if you suffered the ignominy of having to admit you worked for the same organisation as Paul Dacre, or were at Capital with Jane; if you are a Twitter friend (she really, really loved Twitter) or a fellow Earlswood mum (and she really loved Earlswood too) then we want you to be there. Or 25 of you anyway. The brilliant Battersea team are helping co-ordinate things so if you'd like to come please email gemma@battersea.org.uk. The first 25 will get in. And you don't have to write a 250 word essay on why you are suitable or anything. I'm sorry we can't accommodate more, but I fear that, given those 4,000 hits, if we opened the gates of Battersea we wouldn't fit everybody in. And all the dogs would escape, which would be funny awful. We'll provide more details to those who are coming.
I hope all that makes sense. I have a horrible feeling it's overly-complex, poorly thought-through and slightly rubbish. Jane would expect nothing different from me, so she'll be rolling her eyes and smiling at all this somewhere.
And as for us - we're coping. It's difficult to avoid all the tried and tested cliches, so I'll just say that losing Jane has been as horrific as you would all probably suspect, but we are coping. All three children are being wonderful: open about how they feel, strong, loving and understanding. Jane would be so incredibly proud of them.
