My First Memory.

My beautiful Ladybug from my dear friend Alex.

My very first memory of my father is at our home in South Africa. I am standing amongst the flowers in front of our house and on the Fennel plant there is this tiny red and black bug. My father reaches out for it and it climbs on his finger and he shows me the bug and says "This is a Ladybird" and he gently transfers the Ladybird to my finger.

I am quite the Ladybird (Ladybug to Americans) collector. My husband has spoiled me the most by creating a vast collection over the years. Whenever I see a Ladybird I always think of my Father. As many of you know that follow my blog, this is a horrible time of the year for me and I spend the December days with the what ifs flowing through my head. 31st December will be 12 years since my Father was murdered. I wonder if the people who chose to take his life ever think of him on this day?

My father wasn't perfect by any means, but he was that person you wanted on your team. He was the first to volunteer to help and never complained when people took advantage of him, I bitched, but he would just smile and remind us all what the purpose was.

My very first car my father bought me was a Volkswagon Citi Golf. The original colors were Red, Yellow and Blue. I got the very first pink one. I loved that car until I got a phone call from my father one morning saying "So you were at the Hard Rock Cafe until 2am yesterday." Everyone knew who the car belonged to and reports were fed back to my parents on my whereabouts. My father was smart.

I loved this car. 

Being Portuguese we are all about entertaining and when we were in high school we had the best sleepovers with the most amazing food. My father would always provide prawns from Mozambique or the largest Crayfish (Lobsters to Americans) and would stay to help us cook them and we would feast as if it was our last day.

My Father and I cooking at one of our many sleepovers.

To say my father is missed is an understatement. Whenever I see a penny on the ground I will always pick it up because I believe that it is my father saying hullo. It is those little things that get me through some days.

My biggest regret is 12 years ago on Christmas I wanted to call my father and my ex-husband refused to let me call saying I could call on New Years. Costs to call South Africa back then were high. I didn't argue and New Years Eve my father was kidnapped. I have an immense amount of guilt that I didn't stand up to my ex-husband and tell him that I was going to call.  The lesson I learned is to never let a day go by without telling those close to you how much they mean to you.

While my heart aches at no longer being able to hear my father's voice, hear his laugh or see his beautiful hands, my heart rejoices that for 35 years I was lucky to have this amazing man in my life and who I had the privilege of calling Daddy.

Update to previous blog post.

My peace picture and ladybird from a dear friend.

My previous blog post still has me thinking.  I am grateful for my blog readers, all 16 of you who read the blog and I love that we are all on the same page.  I 100% agreed with Linda's comment that I don't begrudge anyone their deserved riches, but as my very wise husband stated "For unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required"

After I posted, my friend T sent me an email.  I asked her if I could share it.

Nubian:

Even if Kim Kardashian says she gives 10% of her income to charity because she was taught to give back, there's just too much 'celebrity' to take that seriously. I think most of them give $$, but not to many give of themselves to the level of say, Matt Damon for clean water, George Clooney about the genocide in Darfur, Ashley Judd re the tungsten mines in Africa and women and children's rights, and Christie Turlington for women's right in Africa (No Woman, No Cry). These people get dirty and sweaty for their causes. They don't write checks, they get on planes and then use their magazine interviews to educate people and get you pissed off that the world is so damn unequal that we should all do something.

A little closer to home Sean Penn, Brad Pitt and Anderson Cooper are the only ones wondering why Katrina victims are still victims.

I think our fast paced, overly-communicated world has made us apathetic. If it's not happening to you, who cares. The thing is, someone always has it worse than you do. When everyone asked me why I was so calm during my unemployment that was the answer I gave. Because someone out there has it way worse than me. I'm grateful and thankful.

I think the celebrity fantasy and all the reality show fascination is the world's crack. They do it to escape because the world is full of horrible bad news, so they take a hit of Jersey Shore and blissfully fall asleep. It's exactly why I refused to watch anything about the Royal Wedding this year. My life will never be that privileged, so I don't need to see it. I'm not a dreamer, I'm a realist. And we need to change our reality.

I couldn't agree more.

And then I read this.

 Today as I was glancing through the newspapers online I saw stories with the following headings.

Diddy parties it up at exclusive resort in Las Vegas with hundreds of guests. ($$$)

Petra Ecclestone get's Rolls Royce Ghost from new husband. ($300,000)

Kim Kardashian sex tape worth $30 million.

And then I read this

750,000 people in Somalia facing starvation

and I cried.

Letter to a friend.

Eddie 1968 - 2011

Dearest Eds:

When I sent you a text to call me I didn't expect to receive a call from the ICU unit of the hospital.  You know I hate roller coasters and from the moment I answered that call it was as if I was being buckled in for a ride.

Eddie from the beginning of our friendship there were days you would make me laugh hysterically.  There were days you would make me angry that I wanted to put on the heels and get my ass on over there to bitch slap you.  Then there were the days you would make me smile or roll my eyes at your silly comments.   But you never made me cry until this week.

Thank you for being my friend.  Thank you for always having my back and taking on my battles.  Thank you for sending me a text last week telling me you loved me.  Thank you for now giving me the gift of a new friend, that through our grief we have discovered why you loved us both.

My voice was the last one you heard as you made your next journey to paradise and for that I will always be grateful.  Did you like what I said?  You must have, you moved your head and took your last breath.  Were you laughing?

Today I will celebrate our friendship and if I cry a little more please understand.

Always,
Nubian