In my life, I have lost friends who were very near and dear to my heart. In fact, at various times on my own journey, they were part of my inner circle. They were all so very different... both in personality and perspective. But they shared the following: They were deep thinkers who had integrity and displayed loyalty. They were kind people; people with soul and depth of character. And they were all special friends of mine. We did an important part of life together... in what little time we shared... until we no longer could...

I wanted to celebrate each of them in Hive Memorial Forest this week.

Tyrone

Pronounced Tyrin... he was one of the most beautiful people ever to grace my life. We only shared a short time together but it was extraordinary, and something I will cherish forever. He died way too young and left his indelible mark on my heart.

Our Moms were good friends... it's how we met... but our actual beginning took place on the roof of a goat shed, situated on his parents' smallholding. I wrote a short story about a year ago in celebration and remembrance of our friendship... and what follows is an excerpt from that story, Plain White Sneakers, which in truth, was a piece of non-fiction with the slightest veneer of fiction over the top... but 99% of what is contained in that story, is true. If you follow the link, you will learn more about this very special boy and what he meant to me.

He was obsessed with life, or rather, the absence of it. What was our purpose as human beings? What could we possibly aspire to if we didn't know how long we each had to live? How would it end for us? Would it be painful? And how would it feel when death came knocking? These are just some of the profound questions that occupied his mind and plagued his soul. Around me, his heart was always on his sleeve, his every insecurity, a badge on display. We shared everything. Our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams.

He posed the difficult questions. I didn't have all the answers. But he made me hunger after them too. So, whilst others were navigating and exploring life, I chose to explore death, with him. _{Excerpt from Plain White Sneakers}

I think about you so often, Ty, and I wonder about the incredible human being that you would have continued to become. Decades have come and gone... but the memories I have remain as strong as ever, and there is a place in my heart that is yours alone. I will love you forever and will see you on the other side 💗🙏

Cynthia

When I started Primary School, I was 6 years old. That was the age of entry at the time in South Africa. I will always remember my first day. I had to start wearing dresses 🙈 I was such a tomboy so wearing a blue and white checked dress was something quite out of the ordinary for me! I remember lining up and entering the classroom with around 30 other children. The class 1 teacher gave us heart-shaped name tags and pre-assigned our seats. As luck would have it, I was seated at a table with two young girls who would go on to become my bestie girlfriends for the next few years: Cynthi and Lindy. We were inseparable at school and spent many an afternoon on joint playdates.

Both of the girls moved to different schools after that first year - Lindy moved out of the area and Cynthi transferred to a private all-girls convent school. I had the opportunity to apply to join her there on a scholarship... but I turned it down... not only did they wear dresses, but they wore little bonnets too! I had certain lines that could not be crossed at the age of 7!!!😅 Funny thing? I now LOVE hats!!! hehehe

Cynthi and I remained close throughout Primary School. Her parents were divorced. Her Mom was a Christian. Her Dad a Jehovah's Witness. They could not reconcile their faiths and for this and other reasons, parted ways. Cynthi and her two older brothers were raised in their Father's religion. As young children, we struggled to understand the tenets of each other's beliefs, but our differences in Faith never caused division in our friendship.

Some of my fondest memories of times spent with her included playing Canasta or swimming in the pool whilst her great danes lazed around on the patio watching us (I always thought they were big enough to be tiny horses!!!) and then racing up the garden path together to visit her grandma,Howdoo, who would always make up Melba toast and tea for snacktime 😍Her grandma was just the sweetest and got her name because she tried to teach Cynthi etiquette in a fun way when she was little... showing her how to meet and greet people by shaking their hand and saying...

How do, how do, how do you do do?

Of course, Cybthi thought her grandma was introducing herself to her!!! So the name Howdoo stuck!

I lost touch with Cynthi over the years. High School brought new adventures and growth for both of us. But we used to bump into each other from time to time and catch up. When I went to University, there followed a period where I didn't see her for a good few years. One night, in my mid-twenties, I had a dream.

I was in an airport and bumped into an old friend. In my dream, I couldn't see the face of my friend, although she was speaking to me. The sense I had was that it was someone from my past with whom I had had a close relationship. The conversation was one-sided. She just kept saying something to the effect of..."I want you to know that I'm ok. And everything is going to be just fine!" And then I woke up. The following evening, Cynthi's mom phoned our home and spoke with my Mom. She was calling to inform us that Cynthi had tragically passed away the day before in a motor vehicle accident. Cynthi was engaged to be married and was driving home in the evening with her future mother-in-law after a day out shopping and they went into the back of a broken-down pantechnicon which was not displaying any hazard lights. I discussed my dream with my Mom and she later shared it with Cynthi's mother. She said it brought her a lot of comfort.

Cynthi was a quirky young woman, very intelligent, very chatty, giggly, and sassy. I always had a lot of time for her and she was the first friend I ever made at big school.

Mark

I met Mark when he transferred to my Primary School around 11/12 years of age. We didn't speak much at school but we bumped into each other at a local karate school that we had both joined, and it was there that we connected and developed a close friendship. We often paired up together in class. He was quite competitive, but then so was I... but we were very supportive of each other too. I still remember the way in which he would aim a controlled punch toward my face and then slow-mo end it by resting his fist against my chin. His eyes would twinkle as he grinned cheekily at me.

He was highly intelligent, A deep thinker. Poetic. Very misunderstood. As a result, he led a relatively lonely existence and often looked pensive, appearing to have the world on his shoulders. Most people at school found him annoying because he was so intellectual, but I found him interesting and thought he was pretty cool. We struck up a nice friendship and he used to cycle miles to my house (he lived across the valley) just to see if I was home and fancied a game of tennis or to hang out... no mobile phones in those days!!!!

After Primary School, we headed to different High Schools, but we still saw each other at Karate for a few years... and then we lost touch for a bit as so often happens when people are growing up and go in different directions. I last saw him in my final year of high school. We had spent a day in the gorge together with some friends and he had also asked me if I would accompany a friend of his to his Senior Prom! So we hung out at his School dance too. The year after we graduated high school, I was chatting with a friend at work during a tea break (It was at my weekend student job) and she was paging through the regional newspaper... She came across an article and read it out to me... a tragic story of teen suicide in the local gorge. I froze when I heard the name and I took the paper from her to read it myself... and it was him... my friend, Mark. I really struggled at the time trying to reconcile what he had done and feeling that I should have been there to support him through whatever he was going through but I have made peace with it.

I attended his memorial service and his Mom said that he had left a note to say that he couldn't take things anymore and had gone to be with Gran 😭She was desperate to access his writings on his computer but did not have a clue what the password was... and so she simply went and sat at his desk, seeking inspiration and hope, and spoke to him, asking him to help her to access his files.... and then a word came into her head. She tried it and it worked! She was able to locate a poem he wrote that foreshadowed his passing and gave her more insight into what he had been going through. It brought her some closure.

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My life has been touched by so many people, but a handful of them have made a lasting impact, and dealing with the passing of people who mean something to you from as early as 8 years old, is a difficult thing to endure. Each one of them added something of beauty to my life and I treasure the time we were blessed to share.

I wanted to share a few songs that I feel reflect, in some way, how I felt about each of them and life... at the time... in the aftermath of that shared space of friendship.

The Beatles - In my life