My mom sent me news that we had been expecting, this morning. Our friend Marita Swanepoel died this morning, at home in Cape Town, having refused anymore chemo for her leukemia.
It bears repeating that she first planted the garden designing seed in me, a long time ago, when I was still only about twelve. I was side-tracked by other things, and it has been circuitous journey to where I am now, but I am here, and quite recently she took a great deal of informed interest in what I was doing, after we had been out of touch for many years. I was very flattered and gratified (and surprised) by her attention and admiration. She was an iconic sort of person: very cultured, very striking, an artist whose aesthetic vision was evident in her home, her work, her appearance; uncompromising, clean, warm, bold.
My mom said in her email to me that Marita and I were kindred spirits in a way, and if that is true, I take it as a great compliment.
I would very much have liked to have said goodbye. Or even just hello, one more time. Our love to Ian, and Pierre, and Lisa.