I first met Norma and Cliff in 1984. They were friends of my then-husband’s parents, but greeted me like a long-lost relative. My first impression of Norma was of a loving, generous, wise and welcoming woman and I never saw any reason to revise it. I revisited Nova Scotia on a number of occasions up until 2012 and on every visit made an effort to see Norma as often as I could. We established a close personal friendship: Norma struck me as the perfect mother and I could talk to her as I could never talk to my own. I took enormous pleasure in seeing her and Cliff together: their relationship was beyond special. It is rare to see two people so much in love after so many years. While Norma’s heart was big enough easily to encompass children, grandchildren, other family, friends and even waifs and strays such as myself, the largest part of it belonged to Cliff. It was so obvious that his death devastated her and left her with little reason to carry on living. It was heartbreaking, and even more heartbreaking when she lost her daughter, Caryl, to whom she had been so close. When I last saw Norma in 2012, she was so obviously tired and unwell. It made me very sad to see this wonderful, vibrant lady, who had introduced me to the wonders of email and the Internet, with whom I had enjoyed Bombay gin and many a glass of wine, laughing while we prepared a meal together, who had shared her home and time so generously with me, grow weary of life. The world is a poorer place without her, but for Norma’s sake, I am pleased that she has finally been able to rest. I’m not a believer, myself, but there may be many universes. If so, I hope that she is finally reunited with her beloved Cliff. Thank you, Norma, for all you gave me and for letting me realise that some people are made for each other and that some loves last forever. My condolences to all her family and friends, who I know will miss her dearly.