Nico, my dear co-pilot,
You told me that she was flying again, but you didn't say that you would join her so soon. You were the great desert flower of Namibia, who managed to thrive in the most inhospitable environment with an inexhaustible supply of smiles and joy. Just as I began to feel stranded in a sea of desiccated Earth, you appeared out of nowhere. The first time I saw you was in the sky--like warm rain, you landed before me and nourished me with your kind, imaginative, and gentle demeanour. Oh Nico, I will never forget the freedom of being in the air with you, soaring over the sands of time, restrictions, intolerance, bureaucracy, and racial tension. You simply treated everyone as a dear friend, regardless of who they were and even when they did not reciprocate your gesture.
I keep flashing back to fragmented memories from Omaruru---from the commonplace task of taking sodas out of the refrigerator and marking our names on the tab sheet to the extraordinary experience of feeling the wind slip over my face as we watched the sun descending under the darkening sky with Brandberg Mountain in the distance. Every time a new one comes, I smile, because for a second, you are reborn to me. Despite my best intentions, this feeling always slips away the more I relive the memory in my mind. And then you slip away... Later, I see a purple aster growing out of the sand or hear an engine roaring overhead, and you are born again. Then, the flower disappears from view and the roaring fades, and you leave once more, like an undulating wave that makes contact only for a precious moment before returning to the sea.
One day, when my wave reaches its crest, it too shall be compelled to return to the source from which it came. Then, the energy that my wave carried will be transferred to the next as it goes out and touches land for that ephemeral time of its own. My understanding of this also comes and goes in waves; I touch it when I see what happened to you not as a death, but as a continuation of the transition that occurs at every moment. Is it not true that you and I are made up solely of non-you and non-me elements?
I will always remember our fabulous adventures above this beautiful planet and I will try my best to follow your example, radiating happiness and joy in my actions without discrimination, like a sun which extends a smile to everything in its path of warm light. It is difficult to feel sad when I am so filled with gratitude for everything that you have given me. Thank you, Nico, for simply being who you were and sharing the wealth of your wisdom with others in every way that you knew how. I will find you again, this time blowing across the crimson sands, continuing to transform them in ways that even you yourself could not have imagined. When I do, I know that I’ll be standing where the sea of red meets the sea of blue.
Fly free, my friend.
Heather
You told me that she was flying again, but you didn't say that you would join her so soon. You were the great desert flower of Namibia, who managed to thrive in the most inhospitable environment with an inexhaustible supply of smiles and joy. Just as I began to feel stranded in a sea of desiccated Earth, you appeared out of nowhere. The first time I saw you was in the sky--like warm rain, you landed before me and nourished me with your kind, imaginative, and gentle demeanour. Oh Nico, I will never forget the freedom of being in the air with you, soaring over the sands of time, restrictions, intolerance, bureaucracy, and racial tension. You simply treated everyone as a dear friend, regardless of who they were and even when they did not reciprocate your gesture.
I keep flashing back to fragmented memories from Omaruru---from the commonplace task of taking sodas out of the refrigerator and marking our names on the tab sheet to the extraordinary experience of feeling the wind slip over my face as we watched the sun descending under the darkening sky with Brandberg Mountain in the distance. Every time a new one comes, I smile, because for a second, you are reborn to me. Despite my best intentions, this feeling always slips away the more I relive the memory in my mind. And then you slip away... Later, I see a purple aster growing out of the sand or hear an engine roaring overhead, and you are born again. Then, the flower disappears from view and the roaring fades, and you leave once more, like an undulating wave that makes contact only for a precious moment before returning to the sea.
One day, when my wave reaches its crest, it too shall be compelled to return to the source from which it came. Then, the energy that my wave carried will be transferred to the next as it goes out and touches land for that ephemeral time of its own. My understanding of this also comes and goes in waves; I touch it when I see what happened to you not as a death, but as a continuation of the transition that occurs at every moment. Is it not true that you and I are made up solely of non-you and non-me elements?
I will always remember our fabulous adventures above this beautiful planet and I will try my best to follow your example, radiating happiness and joy in my actions without discrimination, like a sun which extends a smile to everything in its path of warm light. It is difficult to feel sad when I am so filled with gratitude for everything that you have given me. Thank you, Nico, for simply being who you were and sharing the wealth of your wisdom with others in every way that you knew how. I will find you again, this time blowing across the crimson sands, continuing to transform them in ways that even you yourself could not have imagined. When I do, I know that I’ll be standing where the sea of red meets the sea of blue.
Fly free, my friend.
Heather
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