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Still Love Remains
Still Love Remains
Still Love Remains
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Still Love Remains

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This narrative non-fiction work tells the story of Beryl Botman as a follow-up on her first publication, With (-out) You (2022) in which she, in conversation with her late husband Russel Botman, reveals how she is experiencing and handling the first year since his sudden death. The following four years are portrayed in this work in the form of letters to her deceased husband.


After a stormy year of adaptation, decision making and change, the following years should be easier. Or is it asking too much? The relationships with stepchildren and in-laws get worse and the chasm deepens. Beryl ensures as far as possible that her decisions and choices are just and rational, especially with regard to a property in the estate. Justice gets a legal twist, going as far as the supreme court, even reaching a tabloid newspaper. She proceeds purposefully with the winding up of her late husband's estate and the memorialisation of his legacy, especially at Stellenbosch University.


The story is divided into four parts, each representing one year after the first anniversary of his passing. She addresses her grief, experiences, feelings and perceptions in the form of letters to the late Russel. Themes of loss, grief and mourning are intertwined with determination, independent decision making and cherishing of that which she and her husband held dear as a couple, as well as creating new experiences and opportunities on her journey as his widow. On her own – her children spreading their wings far and wide – she carves out a new life, creating new possibilities, undertaking new activities, visiting sites of memory and following new roads.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBeryl Botman
Release dateOct 3, 2023
ISBN9798223673125
Still Love Remains

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    Still Love Remains - Beryl Botman

    Love_-_Cover.jpg

    Copyright © 2023 Beryl Botman

    First edition 2023

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the copyright holder.

    The Author has made every effort to trace and acknowledge sources/resources/individuals. In the event that any images/information have been incorrectly attributed or credited, the Author will be pleased to rectify these omissions at the earliest opportunity.

    Published by Beryl Botman using Reach Publishers’ services,

    P O Box 1384, Wandsbeck, South Africa, 3631

    Edited by Gerard Peter for Reach Publishers

    Cover designed by Reach Publishers

    Website: www.reachpublishers.org

    E-mail: reach@reachpublishers.org

    Text Description automatically generated

    BERYL BOTMAN

    beryl.botman60@gmail.com

    Prologue

    It’s been a long year since you’ve left me, left us. Yes, I was made to believe the first year after losing a loved one was the worst. It may well be so, but I’m not so sure. Or let me put it differently, I’m not so sure if the second or third year will be any easier. It certainly didn’t feel that way at the end of last year. There were so many unfinished matters at the end of the first year. It didn’t feel at all as if I was coming out of the ‘valley of the shadow of death’.

    It feels like I’m still in the middle of the river, struggling among the rapids. The riverbank is still far out of sight.

    In this state of lifelessness, my eyes were fixed on the present and the future. Yes, Russel, I mean fixed because life looks and feels rather dull. Nearly everyone tells me the worst is over now. All the ‘firsts’ are out of the way: birthday, wedding anniversary, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, Valentine’s Day, and first commemoration. Now, why doesn’t it feel as if things are getting better?

    I sincerely hope these are the only ‘firsts’ which I’ve managed to overcome. Or is more yet to come? Were they indeed the worst? Yet, I can honestly say I don’t feel as if I’m treading water all the time anymore, carried away by the rapids. I can feel the ground under my feet again, even though it’s soft and my feet are still sinking ankle-deep into it.

    The uncertainty has not left me yet. The only certainty that has remained is that things will change, that the uncertainty can’t last forever. You’d often remind me that nothing is permanent. Everything will pass.

    I also feel that the intensity of my loss has diminished because at first, every single hour of the day was so awful, that I could tell you daily for two weeks what went on in my life. After that, I was able to present you with weekly excerpts for two months. Yes, and later I could tell you monthly. No doubt, the intensity of my loss is not as acute as before. I’ve now reached a point where I only visit your grave once a month. I also don’t feel the need to burn the candles so often, which proves I’m not totally dwelling in the valley of the shadow of death.

    It’s for this reason that I’ve decided to write letters to you in future. Time will tell how and when I’ll write to you. I suspect that contact with you won’t be very often – at least not as often as during the first year. You’ll therefore hear from me only now and then. I hope you get the letters. I won’t write on such thick paper like last time. Do you still remember that letter I wrote to you on Bruno’s recommendation? I won’t go through that whole process of rolling up and burning again. I’ll just write to you with the certainty that the letters, like the anthuriums, symbolise our unity. We are joined to each other and united until we meet again … and beyond.

    Year Two

    29 August 2015

    Dear Russel

    The first year has now passed, as you know. I suppose I should get back into gear and pull myself together, but it’s still difficult. Over the past two months, I have grappled with two main points on my agenda: firstly, the estate and secondly, the tribute publication, your book. Then other matters needed my attention.

    Establishing your legacy – the bursary fund, tribute book, memorial lecture and the painting – has also occupied most of my time and focus. The university has involved me in all of these matters. For that I’m grateful, but at the same time, it’s very painful for me. My psychologist would prefer I didn’t do it. I, on the other hand, feel I have to and I want to do it. You deserve my efforts to keep your legacy alive.

    Let me just start with the tribute book. As for the book, Stellenbosch University has asked me to make a contribution in the form of an epilogue. They want me to describe Russel on a personal level, as a family man. This is one of the most difficult pieces that I have ever written. What shall I write? How do I do justice to all that you’ve meant to us? And, as you are a people person, an ‘our’ person, I didn’t want my voice to be heard alone. I decided to use your last birthday as a point of reference by using the photo album that Ilse gave you as a present. I made a list of the different characteristics captured by the different entries. Remember, at your last birthday party Ilse invited the guests to write down their reasons for caring about you and why they appreciated you. Most guests did not stick to the request and wrote birthday wishes instead. However, the characteristics that did stand out, are the high level of integrity and responsibility that marked your life. I tried to quote some of the comments and let the people speak for themselves.

    I also wanted to ensure I do justice to you in your different roles. I, therefore, had to portray you, among other things, as a son, brother, grandson, husband, widower, father, uncle and friend. It was by far the most challenging piece of writing I had ever done. It sounded awkward. Apart from that, my biggest worry was that whatever I put in writing was not good enough. How could I ever do justice to you as a human being in what I wrote on a few pages about the mensch who had journeyed with me? How?

    I stopped fretting, wrote the piece and submitted it in the hope that the editors would make it more meaningful. Yes, Russel, my piece of writing felt so meaningless, so empty, so inadequate. I know it and they would certainly discover it too and suggest improvements.

    I told you last year how I had asked Cornelius Thomas to take care of the section about your youth and student days for the tribute book. He called earlier last month for an appointment to interview me. He was the right choice. He knows how to write about history. After all, you are a historical figure, Russel. I couldn’t give him first-hand information about that period as we didn’t know each other then. I could only speak about what you had told me about yourself. I shared with him some of your personal writings from your youth. With my permission, he copied and took with him some of your letters and poetry. I had to explain the reason why your first names were switched to the best of my ability. I hope I remembered correctly that Pappie and Mammie couldn’t agree on the first name. Pappie preferred ‘Hayman’ and Mammie wanted ‘Russel’, but because Pappie was the one who went to register your name, his choice won but he never told anyone. That is why your registered first name was Hayman but was called Russel. An explanation was made necessary because of your black A5-size hardcover book with the red back, titled Gedigte & verhale & sketse uit die pen van RHB’. I could not avoid it. Furthermore, I just shared with him the stories you had told the children and me about your grandparents and their time at Rooipos and in Bloemfontein. In the same way, I could tell him stories about your school days and your days at the University of the Western Cape. I encouraged him to speak to your sisters and brother. They know more about the days of your youth. I gave him their contact details. It was a good morning. I am satisfied and convinced that your youth and student years are in good hands.

    Now, let me first deal with all the matters that affect you directly. I have to tell you about my conversation with Llewellyn MacMaster and also my attendance at the Naspers 100 function.

    I already told you about my dissatisfaction with Llewellyn’s handling of the memorial service after your death. I did clear it up with Derrick Marco and made peace with it, though. Therefore, I did not insist on seeing Llewellyn. I regarded the subject as closed. Even so, our relationship was strained. On some occasions when we were both present, we avoided each other. However, the day after Cornelius was here, he came to see me at my house. I expressed my dissatisfaction with the way he handled Lizelle during the memorial service. We came to an agreement but then carried on talking about my relationship with Lizelle.

    I tried my best to explain the deep and long struggle between the two of us, hoping that he would be able to support Lizelle. She is after all a deacon in the congregation where he serves together with Paulus de Wet. I also discussed with him my understanding of the process of the vocation to the position of deacon. Or it came up. I didn’t quite understand the concept of voluntary service within the church context. He made it clear that I was out of touch with the church vocation procedure. Agreed. I suppose people could offer themselves to serve as a member of the church council, I don’t know. In any case, I was hoping he could provide some pastoral guidance to Lizelle in this capacity. I also knew that he did not know Lizelle very well as she was not a regular churchgoer for the last few years. He also mentioned that she would not welcome them into her house. That doesn’t surprise me at all.

    After I had spoken, all he said was, There are always two sides to every story.

    Of course, there are two sides to every story but the way he had said it gave me the impression that my side did not help him much to give him a fuller picture of Lizelle. I realised he would therefore also not be able to support her pastorally. But I could be wrong. Maybe he knows better. Maybe he could get through to her. Maybe my prayer will be answered that this vocation Lizelle is feeling will be her saving grace, her deliverance. I can only hope for the best.

    He continued by asking if there was something else that I held against him. I was not going to mention anything, but since he had asked, I did. I told him that I felt he had contributed to your stress levels in the last week of your life on Earth. It was about the issues around inclusivity and transformation at Stellenbosch University (SU) which you had to manage in the end because some voices in the council felt the unit had exceeded their mandate by implementing the rejected transformation plan.

    He denied all responsibility for it, even though he was head of the unit. I decided to let it go and didn’t say, But there are always two sides to every story. It is none of my business anymore. It is finished. Done.

    Now back to Naspers 100. I invited Ellen Tise to accompany me to the dinner. I was happy to be invited because it was a sign that you were still held in high regard as a board member of Media24 and a rector of SU. For the occasion, I wore a Chinese-style jacket that I found among your things that had been sent from your office. Josephine made it smaller for me – once again making it look authentic. She is very good at altering garments, this I can tell you. It was a very impressive event, with a huge marquis in the street in front of the Media24 complex. Drinks were served outside the tent on the pavement. There I met Henry and Brenda Jeffreys and together the four of us walked into the tent to take our seats. It was one long table with our seats almost right at the end on the right-hand side – on the side of Adderley Street. It wasn’t long before we were moved to a seat closer to the middle. Ellen was very pleased as she landed next to Jonathan Ball with whom she happily chatted away.

    It was a very relaxed evening with great entertainment and only a few speeches. Ellen and I couldn’t stay for the after-party as I had arranged a lift home with Absa’s Take-me-Home programme. I’m not sure if I told you about it. You arrange before the time for a driver to take you home in your own car. It is safe and comes with the car insurance. Isn’t it great? Ellen spent the night with me and therefore didn’t have to drive home late at night.

    Johan Botha has retired and I was invited. Your friend is still devastated by your passing, Russel. It was a beautiful farewell for Johan and Selma. An overview of his career at the event also included a lot about you. The extent of your impact on the witness action of the church was evident. Irrevocable, enduring. I’m so proud of you. Yet, it is so still incredibly sad for me to be confronted with your life and journey each time. At least I’m crying less than before when it happens. That evening I only cried when I was safely back in our bed.

    It’s Women’s Month again. This year I accepted an invitation to speak at the Department of Environment Affairs and Development Planning. Remember, I do one of these events once a year.

    My Women’s Day message was in the form of a letter to the mostly female participants. As you know, in the style and tradition of Paulo Freire’s way of writing and speaking. The Gardens Commercial School Hall in Paddock Avenue in the city centre was a comfortable space to address the women. Here follows the beginning and the ending of the letter which I sent to them afterwards as they had requested:

    Take a moment …

    Women’s Month is an opportunity to reflect on being a woman. We can take stock of our strengths and gains, our pains and challenges. During this month, you will be granted much stimulation in this regard. Be open to being filled with messages, stories, role models, advertisements in the media, events by organisations and the workplace such as this occasion.

    What I have done is to take a moment to reflect on what to do with all the input during this month and ground ourselves and think about what to do to get to August 2016.

    In our many roles as women: professional, worker, girlfriend, wife, widow, mother, sister daughter, niece, aunt, grandmother … we have to recognise that we have come a long way, in our own strength, through divine strength and the strength of others. But we also had some challenges. We must ensure that we are always making progress, individually and as a community of women and men.

    Traditionally a woman was expected to serve others and put herself last in all instances and get sufficient satisfaction from that. In the 20th century this has begun to move in the direction of another extreme: putting yourself first, your achievements first, being served and getting served.

    For some balance, some of this freed energy, physically and emotionally, can be used to serve others. Today, we can reflect on a law of nature: action and reaction, in other words, balance. The balance of give and take.

    During the speech I presented an orange which I peeled slowly, ending as follows:

    The symbol of this fruit is a gift from nature that is nurtured and cared for – give and take. Take it for all that it means. It looks good: colour, shape. It feels good: texture and shape. It smells and tastes good. The peel of the fruit unites. To discover and experience this unity we have to peel it and this takes some discomfort and work. The peel holds us, the segments, together. Let us share in the pleasure, nourishment and enjoyment it gives and remember that within each segment are many little ones to remind us of our many roles, rights and responsibilities.

    Our families, communities, society and the world are there to give to and take from – in unity and with freedom hard won. Keep the balance between give and take. Good luck.

    Now, I suppose this was divine intervention, as it was the very same department that I’m still fighting with about a mound at our Gordon’s Bay home. It is still dragging on. I’m still going back and forth between my lawyer, the expert and the homeowners’ association of Harbour Island.

    I suppose it’s another of the ‘firsts’ that I must deal with. There are so many unfinished matters like your estate and your legacy that need my attention. As far as the estate is concerned, it’s mostly questions about the estate account. For this, I have to look for documents. The biggest search operation was your medical records. SARS has decided to audit your taxes. They want statements from all practitioners. It means driving from doctor to doctor because telephone calls don’t work out so well. They don’t understand what I’m looking for. Explanations aren’t enough, because it sounds to me that these people have never encountered these issues before. I, therefore, drive to Stellenbosch, Somerset West and Durbanville. I’ve found them all at last. At least SARS is satisfied.

    With all your specialists in mind, I’m reminded of how well you looked after your health and how you took care of each issue before your passing: your teeth, nose, blood pressure and your skin. And now you lie buried with a mouth full of new teeth.

    With regard to the stepfamily, the second year also has shown no progress. The last time after Byron and Jade had visited me, Blanche told me in no uncertain terms that the children did not actually want to visit me because it made them unhappy. I didn’t take it up with her. Until Byron’s birthday. Roxanne and I went to his birthday party. I noticed how Blanche got upset at the children’s happy faces when they came running toward us for a hug. Even little Haylen, who seldom visits with Hayman and the boys, came running with outstretched arms for me to pick her up. She threw her arms around my neck, leaning her head against it.

    Everything was fine until Jayden came to tell us they were not allowed to visit us any longer. If I wanted to see them, I should be the one visiting them at their home. This was too much for me, that they should involve the children in their conflict with me. I decided to leave before dinner was served. I’ve been humiliated enough. I won’t allow it. I won’t continue with this stepfamily under these circumstances. I didn’t confront anybody about it, though. I just left and explained to Roxanne on our way home. It was terrible.

    Hayman has not responded again to any of my invitations to the boys. I especially felt sorry for the boys and Roxanne because Hayman has also ignored her invitations.

    This was apparently also the last straw for Roxanne. She asked to accompany me to my appointment with my psychologist. I thought it was a good thing for her to speak about her thoughts and feelings regarding her half-brother and half-sister. When we got there, she asked to go in first. I was called in later, just to get the shock of my life. This was not what Roxanne wanted to talk about. She has freed herself from a secret she’s been carrying for years since her childhood days.

    The secret of her half-brother that she was aware of. She had no reason anymore not to tell someone about it. You are dead and the boys are also inaccessible to her. I started to understand why we – you and I – sometimes didn’t quite understand Hayman’s behaviour. It breaks my heart that I didn’t suspect anything. Roxanne is free. So am I. It is unfortunately not my place to tell you about it. It’s hers. Or actually Hayman’s.

    I have to wind up the estate.

    Now I’m just angry with you all over again. They are your children. It took you so long to trust me and understand my view of Hayman and Lizelle. For more than twenty years, I tried everything I could to make the blended family work. You too. I know how hard it was for you to admit that I was right and that you wrongfully accused me of unfairness and lovelessness.

    I also know that you couldn’t forgive yourself for it right until your death, even though I had assured you many times that I did not hold your children’s behaviour and manipulation against you. But you could have relented earlier. This is what I hold against you. I tried for four long years to share my observations of Lizelle with you, but for four years you refused to read the book. Literally until right before your death you still refused to read that very book that helped me deal with Lizelle. This is why I’m so angry with you. Nevertheless, I’m glad you did not die without reading it, which helped you understand my point of view. Words can’t express how thankful I am.

    At least this month ended on a more pleasant note. Marlene invited me to the opening performance of the West Side Story musical at Artscape. Do you remember, I told you we had performed it in Lavender Hill? That night Marlene paid tribute to the deceased mother of the leading soloist, Lynette Kenned. Marlene also asked her father to stand so that the audience could sympathise with him. It was another lump-in-the-throat moment for me because I miss you so much.

    I decided there and then to invite my former Lavender Hill colleagues and friends to join me at one of the performances of the musical. I could renew the ties of friendship with them again. I have a need for it. And so I went with Peter Mitchell, Shereen Adams and Cathy, as well as her husband Cedric van Blerk to the theatre. We could not locate Charmaine Hoedemaker and Diana Cupido currently lives in Sydney, Australia. It was an enjoyable evening of the arts and friendship.

    Till next time, my love.

    24 October 2015

    Dear Russel

    It was the month of your birthday. The highlight recently was the first Russel Botman Memorial Lecture. Your birthday will from now on be commemorated annually with the Russel Botman Memorial Lecture which will be hosted by Stellenbosch University in collaboration with the curatoriums of the Uniting Reformed Church (URC) and the DR Church, as well as the Beyers Naude Centre. I also serve on the committee now. Prof Bosman – Bossie – is the acting dean because Nico is a vice-rector now.

    It makes your birthday easier to deal with in a way, as it is keeping me busy. Your birthday fell on a Sunday. Ilse, Roxanne and I went to Stellenbosch to visit the Russel Botman House. In the foyer, a burning candle under your photograph lit up a memorial plaque. The students planted a yellowwood tree in your honour. The three of us took a photo by the tree and in the foyer.

    The memorial lecture took place on 19 October in the Attie van Wijk Auditorium and was preceded by cocktails in the courtyard.

    Dirkie Smit was the speaker with the theme, Making history for the sake of future generations: On the theological logic of Russel Botman’s commitment to transformation. Dirkie found it fitting to ‘just listen to his own voice again, rather than taking a theme from his life and work to contemplate on, in the way memorial lectures are usually done.’ He deals with your life and work by starting with your theological logic, followed by themes on vocational spirituality, accountable discipleship, complicated obedience, hopeful action and concluded with

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