You have always been in my world.
Your name was whispered by some and growled by others.
I wrote about you in school essays and assignments.
Treason. Racism. Equality. Fear. Forgiveness.
How does education win a battle more effectively than petrol bombs and riots?
How do words heal wounds that run deep?
How does a loving soul set the example?
How does a smile, a joke and a light hearted approach ease the burden?
How does forgiveness from one man transform the lives of millions?
The answer lies in your life.
Madiba, I have never met you. Yet I feel as though it's my Grandfather who lies sick in bed.
I feel an ache because I know that when we lose a loved one the world just seems to go grey.
The colour drains and, for a while at least, there are no rainbows - only stormy clouds.
I see prayers, vigils, posters and people with hands raised to the heavens.
They do so because they know that letting you go will hurt so much.
You are their anchor and they do not want to drift again.
When I see these tears, I see that they fall from the eyes of people with many varied skins.
They are black and white and coloured and yellow.
They don't yet realise that they ARE the rainbow you leave behind.
How can I ever thank you?