Today was one of those beautiful days - sunny, blue-skied and filled with music. It was also serendipitous in the most delightful way. What now feels like a long, long time ago, I blogged about Alwyn Hewson. I think about him and his family often. Even now, two years later, one of them will pop into my thoughts. I've continued to wonder how his wife and kids were doing... and today was the day I found out. We were picnicing at the Walter Sisulu Gardens when I noticed a red-headed boy running past me clutching a dirty, stuffed toy dog by the ear. Boyfriend Ben's son (also a red head) ran off with him. When none of them returned, I went looking for the boys. The teenage girl taking care of the red-head turned out to be Alwyn's daughter and Liam was the baby I'd last seen three years ago. Alwyn's wife, Daryl, was nearby and we had a goose-pimple, warm hugging reunion. That was when she told me that the post I'd written so long ago had been discovered by her brother who lived in the States and distributed through their family. She thanked me because it meant so much to them all. This left me trying to swallow the huge lump in my throat. Standing there in the warm spring sunshine I was filled with goose bumps. Boyfriend Ben poined out how something I'd written had touched people, some of which I don't even know.
This made me realise the power of writing. That sometimes you just have to write, the reason you're doing it is less important.