Two posts in a week, must be some kind of record, but it's hard to let a man like Mandela go without acknowledging something of his magnitude.
I read The Long Walk to Freedom before I set off on my travels, with a friend, from Johannesburg to Cape Town. En route we passed Nelson Mandela's house and I was struck very much by this man. Last night when we heard the news I shed a tear and this morning driving home from school drop off, another few tears fell from the old eyes. But the saddest thing that hits me, is not that Mandela has died, because he is now free, but that my children can't grasp the cataclysmic hole this man shall inevitably leave.
I was trying to part this information to my youngest this morning
"You know Nelson Mandela died last night"
"No, who's Nilsom Mandayla?"
"He was a great man from South Africa, he was 95!"
"Sun Africa? Why was he 95?"
"He was 95 becasue he lived until he was 95 and he was in prison for 27 years!"
"Oh, what made him die?"
"He had a lung infection, he was 95 and weak and he fell asleep and didn't wake up."
"What is lung? Why do lungs kill you?"
Yes, all these things are the things to focus on, the lungs, the age and the country. My husband took a different tack.
"Nelson Madela died last night, who died?"
Eldest "I don't know"
"Nelson Mandela..."
"Yes, he was 95!"
"Yes, he was an anti- Apartheid icon"
"Yes, I got a reindeer in my calendar Mummy!"
We'll try again, this is a day that should be remembered, if you can remember. A man like that is inspirational. He shall be missed, by my husband and I certainly, even if my children have no concept of the significance of the day, they know that he was old, even though my eldest's best friend has a grandparent who's "a hundred or something like that!" 95 seems so insignificant, he shall be missed, and I wish South Africa the best of luck in the times to come. RIP Nelson Mandela 1918-2013, what a man.
I read The Long Walk to Freedom before I set off on my travels, with a friend, from Johannesburg to Cape Town. En route we passed Nelson Mandela's house and I was struck very much by this man. Last night when we heard the news I shed a tear and this morning driving home from school drop off, another few tears fell from the old eyes. But the saddest thing that hits me, is not that Mandela has died, because he is now free, but that my children can't grasp the cataclysmic hole this man shall inevitably leave.
I was trying to part this information to my youngest this morning
"You know Nelson Mandela died last night"
"No, who's Nilsom Mandayla?"
"He was a great man from South Africa, he was 95!"
"Sun Africa? Why was he 95?"
"He was 95 becasue he lived until he was 95 and he was in prison for 27 years!"
"Oh, what made him die?"
"He had a lung infection, he was 95 and weak and he fell asleep and didn't wake up."
"What is lung? Why do lungs kill you?"
Yes, all these things are the things to focus on, the lungs, the age and the country. My husband took a different tack.
"Nelson Madela died last night, who died?"
Eldest "I don't know"
"Nelson Mandela..."
"Yes, he was 95!"
"Yes, he was an anti- Apartheid icon"
"Yes, I got a reindeer in my calendar Mummy!"
We'll try again, this is a day that should be remembered, if you can remember. A man like that is inspirational. He shall be missed, by my husband and I certainly, even if my children have no concept of the significance of the day, they know that he was old, even though my eldest's best friend has a grandparent who's "a hundred or something like that!" 95 seems so insignificant, he shall be missed, and I wish South Africa the best of luck in the times to come. RIP Nelson Mandela 1918-2013, what a man.
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