20 Jul I miss you, Roy.
I miss you, Roy.
I miss you so much.
Why did you have to leave us so suddenly? Losing you is one thing but knowing that you were all alone when it happened, makes the pain worse. It feels wrong that you had to be alone especially since you dedicated your life to helping so many people. It feels wrong because you enjoyed being with people. Why were you not given a chance to at least be with someone?
Mommy and daddy are shattered. Your three daughters, as you so fondly referred to us, we miss you. Our partners miss you. Our children miss you.
The grief has been something I’ve never experienced before, and I really wish I wasn’t experiencing it for your departure. As my friend Makhosi said to me the other day, “death is so final”.
Everywhere I go, there are memories of you. I’m struck by the realisation of how intertwined our lives were. On some level, I always knew it. But it’s made so crystal clear now that everywhere I go, there is a special memory of you. I’m holding on to every memory, every funny moment, every disagreement, every drinking escapade, every informative discussion, I’m holding on to them for dear life. I don’t want to forget any part of the lifetime of experiences I’ve built up with you.
These memories are special, and they are all we have left of you. Your time with us was too short. Your departure, sudden. You’ve left us reeling, Roy.
I wish I told you more often, how much you mean to us.
I think you knew and I’m happy I grabbed the opportunity to tell you at your surprise 50th birthday.
I saw the tears well up in your eyes as you listened to our speeches about how much you mean to us and how you’ve shaped our lives with your brotherly love. I will get to a point (hopefully) when I can smile at the memories of you again. Right now, though, we feel raw pain.
My friend, Trisha Lord, commented on my FB status of you, saying that grief is demanding. I truly understand what she meant now. I’m literally at the constant mercy of my grief. On the surface, I look ok. People might even say I’m strong. But I’m shattered. On Saturday I sobbed uncontrollably at a coffee shop when one of your favourite songs came on and at the moment, I was transported to one of the lovely memories I have of you. All I want is to have one more experience where I see you and I can see you smile and give you a massive hug. But it’s never going to happen again. Never. I’m overcome with grief whenever the realisation dawns that the rest of my life won’t have you a part of it. Sure, I have memories but from hereon, I won’t form any more fun moments with you, we won’t build any more special moments. It’s over, just like that. I wasn’t ready for this moment, Roy. I don’t know how to live without you.
Thank you for all the special moments. Thank you for bringing so much light, kindness and love into our lives. You were here for a reason. And you delivered on your life mission with every waking moment. No one will come close to you. We will yearn for one last visit, for the longest time.
I promise I’ll keep your legacy alive. This is not only my promise but a promise from your 2 other children, from mommy and daddy, from Shane and Nico, from Isaiah, Sebastian and Ethan. On a funny note – England made it to the Europeans final and before the game, we asked daddy if he’ll cut his hair should England win. He said no because it’s not the world cup. Hahahaha! Dougie got away with the fine print. For a second, I wanted to call you to share this funny story with you. But I can’t. I hope you can feel it whenever I think about you during the day. It’s multiple times. By the way, England didn’t win it. I was rather chuffed with that 😉
The sadness has engulfed me, sometimes to the point where I just want to give up on everything and lay in bed and just weep.
I know you wouldn’t want this because you knew what I am doing in my business and my passion for my country and continent. But it’s tough because I wanted you to be there for all the special moments still to come. I don’t want to celebrate without you. I’ve never had to do this and it’s so wrong that I must start a chapter without you now.
I’m not going to end this post with a positive note because that’s not how I truly feel. I’m sad, I’m confused, I’m enraged.
You were one of the people who knew about my temperament and my short fuse. Please indulge me while I’m in this state. I hope I can get to a more neutral place one day, emotionally.
I’ll always love you my dear brother. You are locked in my memory and in my heart.