The work I do for you exposes me, on a daily basis, to a harsh reality: as much as the world respects you, and loves you, it seeks relentlessly to take from you. So that the person who wishes simply to give you something, especially if the giving is from afar, is a gem in my eyes.
Thank you for giving so much to so many. And for continuing to give, though you deserve rest and need rest.
Amongst numerous memories, there is one that perhaps best exemplifies this for me.
In 2005 I was showing you and a visiting dignitary around an exhibition at Mandela House. We were discussing South African music, and the name of Gibson Kente came up. Kente was desperately ill with full-blown Aids. You told Zelda to cancel your remaining appointments for the day, and a short time later you were visiting Kente in Soweto. Just weeks later Kente was dead.
Thank you for so many special memories.