Dear Uncle Peter,

For inspiration on what to write to you, I consulted my childhood photo albums, stored for over a decade at Mom’s house in

Gordon’s Bay. Paging through the photographs, many faded and discoloured, it gradually dawned on me that while you were a

mainstay in my life until my late teens, our paths crossed very seldom after that – mainly at family gatherings.

Sadly enough, the last time I talked to you was at Aidan’s christening in 2001. Oh yes, I kept up with your major milestones

through the family grapevine, but aside from a casual question directed to Grandmum or Mom about how you were doing, our

relationship was left to fade into nothingness. But, you know all this.

I can see you sitting at the helm of heavens sleekest launch, with your fishing line dangling in the big fish department (I

think they go to heaven too!), your one arm on your knee and nodding wisely.

I hope you have the same regrets that I have.

And, I hope you know that I’ve decided to take one or two lessons from your untimely passing.

First lesson: Sometimes tomorrow doesn’t come… so I want to tell you that I adored you as a little girl and was blown away

by your coolness when you bought AZTEC. It would have been great to continue nurturing a relationship based on such a

good start and I am sorry I didn’t make more of an effort on my part.

Second lesson: Having a family is a wonderful thing…since you died, a lot has happened in our family. Old axes have been

buried, we are talking to each other more often, sharing problems, joys, cares and we are all working together to remember

you the way you should be remembered.

I just really wish I had known the depths of your despair so I could have done something to help you.

On a brighter note, I also thought I’d tell you a couple of my favourite memories of you. The first is of the wonderful

relationship you had with my father. It infused the atmosphere of almost every weekend our families were together and

showed itself in many ways: while you were counting out the catch of crayfish on the beach after your dive, over the smoky

coals at the braai or when you were thinking up some harebrained competition or other.

Another is how you introduced us to prawn feasts at your house. You and Aunty Felly used to invite us around for PRAWNS

– I don’t know where they came from, but there were loads. Garlic and butter and learning to eat their heads and feelers etc

And, the smell of resin – the arrival of AZTEC meant producing new and more exciting lures in the garage… and, of course,

the cousins’ outing on the boat for the first time, blissful.

Thanks Uncle Peter, and happy fishing!

Xx Penny.

Penelope Hazel Bird June 2007

IN YOUR WORDS