Day 11. Somebody I never met but in a way I know (11/1/19)

At 11am I clicked on a button on this computer that genuinely changed my life; a button that ushered in the third act.

For the second time in 10 days I carried out a decisive action that will have massive repercussions; an idea that hadn't crossed my mind on the 1st of January became extremely real. J and I have spent the last few days looking at the options that will allow the left turn I've taken to work. We trusted that something would happen and something happened.

At the age of 55, I've just started on a brand new path.

But you still have those slight trepidations. You go to bed last night thinking, 'is this the right thing? Is this the best choice we can make? What if... What if...'

My day started at 7:30. A lie in, following it with a run. Headed downstairs to grab my iPod, something to listen to while running. Glanced at my phone. A text from J:

"Oh My God, Dianne Oxberry has died."

Neither of us knew Dianne Oxberry but she was present in our lives for the best part of thirty years.

As a young married couple living in Leeds she was the soundtrack to our journeys to work as part of the Simon Mayo team, back when listening to the radio One Breakfast Show was something that was obvious to do. A bright voice in the morning. In recent years she's been the weather girl that we've caught at the end of the BBC local news.

We didn't know her. Didn't know anything about her but she was in our homes and in our lives. It's amazing how shocking the loss of somebody you had no real world personal connection to is.

Her colleagues and friends tell a tale of a woman who was loved and cherished. Their tributes are warm and generous. The tributes also tell a tale of shock. Nobody knew she was ill until the New Year. The New Year is 11 days old.

The first reports spoke of a short illness. One mentioned the hospital where she had passed. The mid morning reports became specific.

51 years old. A wife and mother who has left behind a husband and two sons. How do you survive that? How do you deal with it?

From my current vantage point I know how young 55 feels. 51 is young. There's so much still to do, to achieve, to see, to enjoy. There was so much more life for her. From everything that her friends and colleagues have said, she had so much more to give to those around her.

(It happens that I know somebody who knew Dianne; if this is being read I hope that these words are all okay)

Life can be glorious and wonderful but, at times, it can also be horribly random and indiscriminately cruel. If you have choices to make, make them. If you're considering change, embrace it. Make your decisions and live your life because you never know how much you have. Be wonderful to everybody, help who you can help, be happy, enjoy every second that's given to you, make the world a better place one second at a time because we may not be here that long.

Rest in peace, Dianne. Thanks for being there.

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