It is hard to choose which memories to share at this sad time. After all, a friendship that lasted for almost 27 years cannot be summed up in a few paragraphs. Neither can a person who meant so much to so many. This multi-faceted, charming, versatile, witty, generous and spirited individual who was so many people all rolled into one. Who should I talk about? Is it Karena the doctor? Karena my colleague? My friend? Karena the mother, the wife? Karena the socialite? Karena the fund raiser? Karena the daughter, sister, cousin, aunt? Karena the cook, the hostess? I am lucky enough to have seen her in all these roles, and in each one she maintained a sense of purpose, a brutal sincerity, and above all a commitment to the highest standards. At times this could be intimidating to those less gifted, sometimes shaming to those more deficient, embarrassing to those who were duplicitous, and overwhelming to those unfamiliar with the standards expected. But all that came from her was real and genuine, her warmth and loyalty were undeniable.   
 
I recall many nights when we would stay up into the small hours watching vulnerable babies on ventilators hoping they would pull through into another day. Sometimes fortune went against them and I remember the way Karena talked to their parents, telling them what no parent wants to hear. Just as we received the news of her own passing recently. Her words were not just kind and caring, after all we can all do that. They were personalised and heartfelt, they bridged inevitable hope with stark reality, they gave genuine comfort in the worst moments, they left lasting memories. Many years later I was at a dinner party at my son’s school and spoke to a father sitting next to me whose son was in the same year. After the usual small talk he started telling me about his boy who was born prematurely with several other medical problems. His previously pompous demeanor changed as he recounted how after his birth the parents were told to expect the worst. But several weeks and multiple surgeries later, the boy survived, “thanks in no small part to a wonderful neonatologist, Dr Ghaus, who called in every day including weekends”.  “Do you know her?” he asked, “I believe she works at the same hospital as you”. I did not venture to tell him that my own two darlings had also been under her care although mercifully in far less precarious situations. So you can image how thrilled I was when some time later, this formidable professional explored her “academic interest in parenting” and became a mother herself. Although I should say she made for a stubborn and non-compliant patient! We would not have had it any other way! 
 
My other abiding memories of Karena will always be her social events. After some years I soon learnt that “Why don’t you come round for dinner?” meant “I’m having at least 20 people over in addition to the 5 that are already staying at our home so 4 more won’t make a difference”. The Cusden residence was always like a hotel. With friends and family all over the world it was hardly a surprise. And every time I thought I had one arm of the family tree sussed, another whole tier appeared! It brings me much comfort to know that all these wonderful people will continue to be there for Fergus and Leo as they try to move on. At times like this it is easy to see what is unfair and unlucky but almost impossible to appreciate the good fortune that surround us. And as well as family there are many, many friends. The wonderful fundraising events are a testament to this and attending them was always a treat. Watching Karena “work the room” was always both amusing and impressive! Her ability to recall names, dates, places and minute details about people’s lives was unique. And there was never any problem with catering because no-one ever left these events underfed! We shared a great love of food and would talk for hours about ingredients, share recipes and grade each other’s endeavours. In the last few years there were times when Karena lost her sense of taste but still everything she cooked tasted wonderful!
 
Amongst other things, we shared a hairdresser, the wonderful Anna, a flamboyant Spanish lady that Karena introduced me to many years ago. It stuck me that Karena’s hair always looked so perfect whilst mine did not. I used to say it was because I did more on-calls than her and never had the time to care. Of course that was not true, it was just her sense of having everything “just so”. I regularly teased her about being a Malaysian Princess, “What’s wrong with that?!” she would say. Some years ago I excitedly told her about our purchase of a property in France and how wonderful the views and food were and how she should visit. “Don’t expect me to visit until you get the plumbing fixed! I am a Malaysian Princess after all!”. I am pleased to say we managed to sort out the plumbing in time for the Royal visit! A much needed break between hospital visits for her, memories I will always treasure for me.
 
And what words of comfort can I offer Fergus and Leo at such a time. Fergus was Karena’s rock, the perfect companion at all times.  And Leo, the epicentre of her world. No child should have to suffer such a loss at this age, but Karena was convinced that he would be stronger as a result. And with Fergus’s guidance and commitment it is hard to image she would be wrong.
 
My thoughts and love are with the two of you, you have lost a wonderful wife and mother.
I shall miss my dear friend always……..
With great sadness,
Lorin xx