Gone
Never ever
should he be forgotten,
please,
remember this man.
The pages and air waves have been full
with tributes to this man and they barely touch the depth of him.
Nelson Mandela.
A hero to all of humanity.
A hero and beacon to all of us that try
to make a good difference
in the state of mankind.
My hero.
Words are inadequate and indeed they
fail me as I try to write about Mandela and his meaning to me and
South Africa and the world.
Suffice it to say that he breathed
different air than we mortals, that he saw things invisible to our
eyes and he understand things we cannot grasp.
As a person grows and ages, you can
judge the growth of their character and morality by the people they
call “their heroes”. And I mean no disrespect to the individuals
I will mention but I believe you see what I mean as I progress. As a
young child, cowboys strode tall – the Autrys's, the Wayne's, heck
even the Zorro's. Then later, The Beatles and later still, for some,
the Bieber's and the Kanye's and the Kardashian's. Eventually we
(usually that is) all grow up and outgrow these one dimensional
people and with luck become attuned to the Mandela's and the Tutu's
and the others of this ilk.
I will not be the only one to miss this
man.
Rest well Nelson Mandela, you have
earned your sleep – and thank you.
I will return next week for a full
column but somehow the cares of the world just seem a little less
important than they were a few days ago.
Take care out there,
flatlander 52
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