When I was a child we lived in Nairobi. I was pre-school age and we had a dog that was really my play friend during the day whilst my older siblings were at school. One day he'd escaped and taken himself for a walk. I was searching for him around the garden when, through the post and rail fence at the front of the house, I spotted him across the street. I called out his name, he turned and bounded towards me full of enthusiasm and got nailed by a car. That's my earliest memory.

I've had a friend die in a street fight, another in a motorcycle accident, another hanged herself and another along with his two brothers plus their father and uncle killed in a light plane crash into the Grand Canyon.

You can't avoid death I'm afraid. It's a regular feature of your life until your own death comes along.