Claudine, I love and admire you forever.

Today is Claudine’s 39th birthday… her first birthday she is celebrating in Heaven and not here on Earth. On the 20th August 2012 she was, most unexpectedly, taken in her slumber.

I have not spoken to anyone about Claudine's passing, except my mother. Despite my broad vocabulary and general ease of communication, this event stirred hush, reverence and introspection in me.

Just a couple of days prior to her promotion to Heavenly Angel, Claudine had actually tried to call me, and I didn’t take the call because I was in the middle of something and knew, from experience, that our calls were never brief. I had good intentions to call her back later, once the dust settled… but it slipped my mind. Claudine slipped my mind. And I never slipped hers. No one ever slipped Claudine’s mind…

Claudine needed help climbing out and into this world during a difficult delivery, if I remember correctly. I believe they had to resort to forceps to pull her out, which resulted in her ending up in a wheelchair, partially disabled, with a slight squint and speech impediment. But, let me tell you, there was NOTHING wrong with Claudine. She was bright as a button, she didn’t miss a thing, her sense of humour was sharp and often unmatched in wit, and she had a healthy opinion about most things. And IQ aside, she was also extremely charismatic socially and not short of chutzpah. People were drawn to Claudine, and it didn’t take long at all before they genuinely loved her, as I did.

Claudine touched people’s lives. Effortlessly.

She even touched my life when she wasn’t around or interacting with me. When I occasionally slumped into a ridiculous oh-woe-is-me state, I would cast my mind to Claudine and shake myself right instantly.



Claudine was a shining example of good nature and excellent character. They say that nature is born, character is built and personality develops from there. It was to be expected that she would emerge well balanced and affable considering the family she was born into. The Fouries remain salt-of-the-earth, good folk and the way they raised Claudine in the wake of her physical shortcomings was nothing short of admirable. I got to know and love Debbie, Piet and Melissa, and Ouma and Oupa, through my mother when they lived on the Bluff several years ago. Then Mel got married to her childhood sweetheart, Craig, and immigrated to Australia, and Debbie and Piet moved to Jeffrey’s Bay with Claudine to retire there. Then, Life got in the way, as it does… and we gradually lost touch.

Claudine had a good many reasons to be disagreeable or bitter or depressed, given her unfortunate lot in life – a vibrant and independent human being firing on all cylinders plus one, locked in a partially functioning body rendering her wholly reliant and limited in her options.

But, no… Claudine embraced her circumstances gracefully and joyfully and lived her life to the full. She loved a good party and could drink most of us under the table! She loved to laugh, and could cry with equal fervour. I barely ever saw her without a smile. She always took such great interest in everyone else’s lives. She worked hard, and was extremely enterprising, finding ways to generate an income. She loved to swim, even got some medals along the way, and always had a penchant for the ocean, and dolphins in particular. And Claudine LOVED hard, in true unconditional spirit.

Which brings me back to my opening… the call I missed from her days before I could never call her or be called by her again.

When I heard she was gone, I cried. And then, when the sad-water had run dry, I felt guilt and anger at myself, for having missed her call and for not having called her back. For not having made more of an effort to stay in touch with her. For not having made a trip down to J-Bay to visit her and the family as I had planned to so many times. For not having told her enough how much I adored and admired her. For not listening to her as much as I should have. For giving my energy and time to things that didn’t matter at the expense of giving my energy and time to her, who did matter, and gave so generously of herself.

Claudine and I stayed in touch by Claudine’s initiative. And when she did call every few months or so, and I had realized that it was, once again, her showing the effort, she wouldn’t drive me on a guilt trip already punched into my internal GPS. No, she’d just start talking… ask me how I was, give me her news, share something funny, and tell me, “When are you going to stop talking about coming down for a visit and bloody well do it!" Months and miles apart, we’d pick up where we left off, easily and comfortably. And so it would continue…

I have shed my guilt and remorse… for I know that God is all knowing, and he sees my heart and my authentic and unfaltering love for Claudine.

They say the Good die young. Claudine has left a big, wide gaping hole of pure, unadulterated joy in all the lives of those who knew her, I am certain. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been and still is for Mel and Craig who had to make the difficult decision of being oceans apart from their family to enhance their future prospects. And for Piet and Debbie, who don’t know their life without Claudine in it every waking day. No parent should ever outlive his or her child. And for Ouma and Oupa who shared a bond with Claudine, so strong that they almost forgot the aches and pains that old age brings… she was always a light in their lives. And there are many others…

So, dearest Claudine, happy birthday! I celebrate your life today, and the privilege of having had you in mine. You have taught me more than you will ever know. You influence me to this very day, in the most positive way. I choose to believe that where you are now, you’re completely free and uninhibited and your spirit is soaring. I imagine that you’re VERY popular there too, and getting up to all kinds of mischief. Good mischief, as you know how.

I wish I could wave a wand of solace over your family and friends who achingly mourn your loss in these here mortal realms. I know that you live on in their hearts and minds, as you live on in mine. I hope the line is clear when we talk to you sometimes, for ours is not, seemingly so.

Claudine – I love and admire you, forever.