This is a total heartbreak for my family and I. Linda was, and
still is, the love of my life, and the past two years we spent
battling her disease have been a nightmare.
She never complained and always hoped to be able to
conquer it. It was not to be.
Our beautiful children—Heather, Mary, Stella, and James—
have been an incredible strength during this time, and she
lives on in all of them.
The courage she showed to fight for her causes of
vegetarianism and animal welfare was unbelievable. How
many women can you think of who would single-handedly
take on opponents like the meat and livestock commission,
risk being laughed at, and yet succeed?
People who didn't know her well, because she was a very
private person, only ever saw the tip of the iceberg. She was
the kindest woman I have ever met; the most innocent.
All animals to her were like Disney characters and worthy of
love and respect. She was the toughest woman who didn't
give a damn what other people thought. She found it hard to
be impressed by the fact that she was Lady McCartney.
When asked whether people called her Lady McCartney, she
said, "Somebody once did—I think.''
I am privileged to have been her lover for thirty years, and in
all that time, except for one enforced absence, we never
spent a single night apart. When people asked why, we
would say, "What for?''
As a photographer, there are few to rival her. Her
photographs show an intense honesty, a rare eye for beauty.
As a mother, she was the best. We always said that all we
wanted for the kids was that they would grow up to have good
hearts, and they have.
Our family is so close that her passing has left a huge hole in
our lives. We will never get over it, but I think we will come to
accept it.
The tribute she would have liked best would be for people to
go vegetarian, which, with the vast variety of foods available
these days, is much easier than many people think. She got
into the food business for one reason only, to save animals
from the cruel treatment our society and traditions force upon
them.
Anyone less likely to be a businesswoman I can't think of, yet
she worked tirelessly for the rights of animals, and became a
food tycoon. When told a rival firm had copied one of her
products, all she would say was, "Great, now I can retire.''
She wasn't in it for the money.
In the end, she went quickly with very little discomfort, and
surrounded by her loved ones.
The kids and I were there when she crossed over. They each
were able to tell her how much they loved her.
Finally, I said to her: "You're up on your beautiful Appaloosa
stallion. It's a fine spring day. We're riding through the woods.
The bluebells are all out, and the sky is clear blue."
I had barely got to the end of the sentence, when she closed
her eyes, and gently slipped away.
She was unique and the world is a better place for having
known her.
Her message of love will live on in our hearts forever.
I love you, Linda.
Paul