As the youngest child (but oldest daughter – as we often joked), it is now my turn to say a few words. I miss you. Having lived so intensely together in one house for the last 18 months, the ‘missing’ is great. We had so many adventures, lovely memories of going to the sea, walking on Dartmoor, pub meals, concerts, talks over dinner, all the meals we shared together. There was also your suffering, emotionally and physically. Your strength and determination to keep going were admirable. Even near the end.

I remember playing family music together, the holidays we had in Asia and Europe, wonderful memories of Lantau Camp.

And later your genuine interest in what moved me, medically, psychologically, emotionally. So many wonderful discussions we had, and you never judged me but you respected me and my ideas and choices.

With time I understood that you kept the emotions in for so long to protect us from your grief and trauma. The injustice and the deep deep pain. Opening up, brought us closer together. I think you opened up because you knew we were ready now to receive your tears. In the last months of your life the tears became less and less. You told me, just a couple of weeks ago that the pain was softening. You could finally give it some space. I am grateful for that. I know that you are now finally at peace.

I knew you not only as a loving father and grandfather, brother to Bärbel and devoted husband of Mum, but also as a humanist, a feminist, a sculptor and music lover, a psychologist, a brave survivor and a deeply spiritual man.