Our profession is one where it’s easy to get lost in your own stresses and challenges. There was one such time when I was a bit broken, and I will never forget Rosie seemingly to read my troubles intuitively. Not a single question. No prying. Nor ill-timed advice. She simply embraced me.

In that moment, Rosie caught me off guard; she surprised me with a warmth and sincere compassion that I will never forget. And it is this propensity for refreshing surprises that I think of when I picture Rosie. 

I pegged Rosie down as prim and proper. Then I discovered her sense of humour: witty, sardonic with the occasional splattering of crudeness. I’d judged her as a cautious woman who preferred the safe and familiar. Then, on a visit to Switzerland, she led an impulsive swim in the glacial waters of Lugano. Somewhat ashamedly, I perceived her as a little cold and aloof. Then, time and again, she proved herself to be the warmest of listeners, with a balming reassurance that could provide comfort in the darkest of times. 

There’s the brash, loud, attention-seeking, and the confident – and they stand out. And you feel you know them within seconds. With Rosie, if I’m honest, it took me years to get beyond the odd bit of shoptalk. But with each slip of a joke, astute observation, or sage piece of advice, the misunderstood impression dissolved, giving way to a cherished friendship. Discovering a friend in Rosie is far more memorable than any short-lived connections I have forged with the brash, loud and confident.

I am so very sad to lose such a remarkable and refreshingly surprising friend.