Compassion, honour, and heart
And so we have come to the start of yet another year. 48 winters have come and gone, and I remember many good and bad times. But this time of the year, I reflect on the good times. Camping weekends in Kareekloof. Early morning walks with my beloved father, listening to the baboons barking in the distance. Breakfast - like only my father can prepare - horse rides, water slides, and watching the night sky for satellites. Bike rides. How I loved putting my arms around my father as I rode on the back of his bike. I must have been about six or seven years old when he bought his first motorbike. My helmet was blue - it has always been my favourite colour. Performing arts is the core of my being. Some of my earliest memories are of my grandfather entertaining us with stories and songs and playing the harmonica. My father played the piano, and my mother the organ. One of ABBA's songs describes me: "Mother says I was a dancer before I could walk. She said I bega...