Why we do what we do

It is in the lawyer’s coffee, beneath the worn gown, in the courtroom, in the silence of the office and sits upon the pages of the law books. We mourn a quintessential model of professional rectitude; an epitome of legal nobility. We would have been content with half her talents; even her grace. Death has thrust us into morbid introspection. Her footsteps admonish our consciences; more in death, than in life. So lovable, so likeable, so respectable; a woman, for all seasons.

A colleague shared a joke with me once. He related how looking down the street through the window of a house, a man preparing to go to work once remarked while reaching for his heaviest garment; “Today must be very cold,” he said, “I can see a lawyer with his hands in his own pockets”.