told them what had come into my mind during the bleak hours over the Atlantic as I’d flown home. ‘I started thinking of a Foundation,’ I said. ‘Amy’s Foundation. So that disadvantaged young people dealing with addiction, ill health or homelessness can be supported.’
I hadn’t thought much more than that but the idea was out there now. Gradually others started adding to it, and it grew.
The post-mortem examination was inconclusive. The Metropolitan Police said, ‘It did not establish a formal cause of death,’ and that they were awaiting the results of further toxicology tests, which were not expected for two to four weeks. In the meantime, the police treated Amy’s death as unexplained.
An inquest was opened and adjourned until 26 October to allow us to make the funeral arrangements.
In the Jewish tradition a funeral must take place at the earliest opportunity and, since the coroner had released the body, the funeral could take place the following day, 26 July. Certain branches of Judaism do not permit cremation, but my mother had been cremated and we thought that was what Amy would have wanted for herself when she was to be reunited with her Nan Cynthia. There was so much to do and my marvellous friends rallied round us to ensure that everything that had to be done was done, in time for the service and cremation. I started to write Amy’s eulogy.
Amy was cremated at the Golders Green Crematorium in north London on 26 July 2011, a service just for family and friends, in the same hall we had used for my mother’s funeral in May 2006. Following the service, we filed outside into the gardens, leaving Amy’s security boys to look after Amy in death as they had done in life. They emerged ten minutes later and I knew that it was over.
We then went on to the Schindler Hall in Southgate, north London, for the beginning of the
Before the cremation, there had been a service for Amy in the prayer hall at the Edgwarebury Jewish cemetery in north London. When we’d arrived at the cemetery that morning, I was still in a daze and felt that it wasn’t really happening. I just couldn’t take it in. The service was by invitation only and there must have been five hundred people inside the hall, and at least another five hundred outside. We said prayers in English and Hebrew, and ended the service with a recording of Carole King’s ‘So Far Away’ – Amy’s favourite song.
Before that, I read my eulogy, most of which had been written the day before. I had deliberately left gaps, where I didn’t need the written word to know what I wanted to say:
Family and friends. We are here to celebrate the life of our darling daughter Amy. I could say that Amy was the most iconic singer of the twenty-first century. I could say that Amy has sold over 22 million CDs, I could say that Tony Bennett said that Amy was the greatest singer since Ella Fitzgerald. But what I will say is that Amy Winehouse was the greatest daughter, family member and friend that anyone could wish for. My friends and Janis’s friends were Amy’s friends.
I told the congregation the stories I’ve written here about Amy’s youth, about her games and how she would play up; I told them about the times she’d spent at her various schools, the friends she’d made then and later within the music industry.
Amy’s friends were lifelong and deep. Tyler, Naomi, Jevan, Catriona, Chantelle, John and Kelly, Nicky Shymansky, Lucian Grainge, all at Metropolis and 19 Management and, of course, Raye Cosbert, Selena and Petra. Raye is more than Amy’s manager: he is our brother and our guide. Amy’s boys – Andrew, Anthony, Neville and Chris – are family to us. I would trust my life to them. Their care and patience over the years have been outstanding.
I wanted to explain to people what we knew about Amy’s last days, as there had been lots of incorrect speculation in the papers that I wanted to address.
Recently Amy had found love with her new boy Reg and he had helped her deal with many of her problems; she was looking forward to their future together. She was happier than we had seen her in a long while… really happy.
Three years ago she conquered her drug dependency and she was really trying hard to deal with her alcohol problems. She had just had three weeks of abstinence and was really very content with her life.
She had been told by her doctor, Christina Romete, that drinking and then abstaining was perhaps worse than carrying on drinking, as it screws up your electrolytes and can bring on seizures, which could result in death.
Sadly, Amy was prone to these seizures.
But let me stress that Amy was not depressed… I had seen her on the Thursday before I went to New York, and Janis, Richard and Reg saw Amy on the Friday. She was on top form.
That night Amy was in her room playing her drums and singing. As it was getting late, Andrew told her to quieten down. She did so and Andrew heard her walking around for some time later.
He then went to check her and thought she was asleep on the bed. Several hours later he checked on her again and realized she hadn’t moved in that time. She had gone.
So that was it. We are all left here bereft and stunned. Janis’s and my baby has gone. She was the light of all of our lives and will, together with Alex and Riva, remain the light of our lives.
I wanted to say something about the special talent my daughter had been blessed with. I spoke about how she’d done what she’d told Sylvia Young she wanted to do all those years ago. As a family we wanted people to continue to find their troubles eased by Amy’s voice.
Amy’s last gig was at the 100 Club. Her voice was good but her wit and timing were perfect. Everyone enjoyed themselves… most of all Amy. She had a terrific generosity of spirit, which always shone through.
Her legacy will remain.
Reg and Tyler, Janis and Richard, Alex and Riva, Janey and I will somehow have to find a way to continue without Amy. It will be hard. But we have you lot to support us… and together we will get through this.
I told them a little about my mother and Amy, and then I continued:
Richard recently showed me an old school book of Amy’s from 1995. This was from just after Janis and I divorced… Amy drew a heart and split it into sections of things that she loved the best. She wrote: Alex, her mum, and me, her dad. This was just after I had left the house… she wrote that she missed me.
I had never seen this before.
In the last entry in the school book she wrote: ‘I love to live… and I live to love.’ She was just twelve years old.
Good night, my angel, sleep tight.
Mummy and Daddy love you so much.
EPILOGUE
Amy’s passing was and is unbearable. Our lives have changed for ever and will never be the same again.
On Friday, 29 July 2011, Janis and Richard, Alex, Reg, Tyler, Jane and I were allowed into her house in
