By Melissa Hekkers
There was a moment of silence. The rain hesitantly played notes on our umbrellas as we waited for the moment when you were to be gently placed beneath the earth that supported our feet. You had moved on to the other side as I tried to grasp what that entails.
I never actually thought about the potential of you dying. Your being was always somewhat immortal. Your humour never allowed for any darker thoughts to revolve around your presence. But then, time took the best of you.
As you slept with a fist clenched like a baby beside your ear and your other hand posed on your stomach, it was time for you to go, to drift, to move to higher planes – which I so wish you could describe to me as you are the only person I would trust with this reality.
My journey to France didn’t do me the courtesy of seeing you before you departed. Short of a couple of days, I would have caught sight of you, alive. Yet I wonder what that sight would have achieved or changed.
Your essence was always suffused with well being, and of the parody of seeing life, always, from a different perspective, from a stance that would soothe the soul and encourage one to prosper to one’s own core.
And that alone continues to give me so much strength. The way your example is significantly enough for anyone to carry on dreaming and maintain an attitude that exudes one’s own, best potential.
All I maintain now is gratitude: gratitude for having had you as a member of my family; gratitude for having known you and intrinsically felt your inspirations, both as an individual and as an artist; gratitude for the hope and comfort you still nourish me with, as you journey on.
You will be sorely missed, my beloved uncle, teacher, second father and extraordinary being. May you rest in peace.