Last night our very dear friend, Magnus Magnusson, died. We were last together on Thursday. Having not met since Christmas, there was an obvious deterioration in his condition. Stoical and gracious to the end, we drank coffee, Mag smoked a pipe, we talked, laughed and knowing his passion for birds - he was President of the Royal Society for the Protections of Birds - we discussed how, in Russia, sparrows will peck crumbs from the palm of your hand. I said - 'Its a real privilege.' Magnus leaned forward, looked into my eyes and replied, 'Yes, a real privilege.'
It was a real privilege to know Magnus for 28 years. These last few months, during which we met most mornings for coffee, we knew how poor was his prognosis, but he was not, for a single heartbeat, sad or sorry for himself. He was loving, kind, optimistic and, I cannot stress the word sufficiently, gracious. In a press release issued by his family, they said their father had taught them how to live and, in the last few weeks, he taught them how to die.
If you read the BBC News website, you will see the obituaries and tributes to this special man we were fortunate enough to know as a friend.
Christine Martin
