Sim
Somewhere in the
Zambezi Valley not far from Kaveve Spring on the Chewore River, there is a
great Baobab - probably over 2000 years old, it stands overlooking the sands of
this timeless river and all that cross it.
A Plaque sits high on
its trunk, amongst the graffiti of the Elephants that adorn the grey bark, markings
of many generations of the great grey Giants, left like messages for those who
follow in their footsteps.
On the plaque there
is an inscription to Sim, it was placed there ten years ago overlooking this
bend in the river, by his friends and family as a memorial to him, in such an
appropriate place, a place he loved.
In the shadow of this
tree there is an overwhelming sense of peace – a feeling of quietness, a deep
sense of knowing – a respect almost.
The timelessness of the view, makes one question our own mortality. How is it that we are so concerned with
time? We definitely seem to feel
we are timeless, or perhaps
it is the prospect of life that means the most, the possibility that we have
the next twenty four hours? Sooner or later we learn though, there are no
guarantees of life in this form, however, such is our obsession with the future
that we are seldom living in the present - living our lives in an imagery of a
better place, a better life style.
Ten years ago
this month, our Husband, Father, Brother, Son and Friend – Sim went on the journey we eventually all take, impossible
to believe and tragic though it was, perhaps it was always meant to be that way. There are so many things that have
happened in that time, it’s almost impossible to believe that its only ten
years. Every day I think about
this incredible Man, a Man who lived life to its fullest, an incredible support
and friend to all who knew him. It’s
been a tough ten years without you here – perhaps tougher now than ever, but we
manage and know that somewhere you are watching, guiding and laughing at the
comedy of errors we make.
As I sit here in my
studio watching the sun drop on yet another beautiful day in Africa – I think
of you and the great privilege it has been to be a part of your family all of
these years - they carry you forward in a way that you would only be proud,
they wear you on their chests!
I think of that day
ten years ago when we saw that great male Lion get up in the shade beneath that
Baobab in the Chewore, and challenge us, as though he too was guarding the tree.
And I think of you,
there on that tree, watching over what is truly Africa, something you loved so
dearly. The tree, in so many ways
represents what you mean to us all – that incredible strength and presence you
were and still are.
“The tree is our
meeting place, where we meet with “our brother”. The meeting is not a noisy affair – it is quiet and
respectful, where we remember and, as we watch the movie that is our minds, we
see life for what it truly is - beautiful and unpredictable.”
“They say that it is
not what we gather in life – but what you scatter that tells what kind of life
that you have lived”
Will
