FROM A LETTER TO K D MATANZIMA, DATED 14 OCTOBER 1968, ABOUT THE DEATH OF MANDELA’S MOTHER1 I last saw my mother on September 9 last year. After the interview I was able to look at her as she walked away toward the boat that would take her to the mainland and somehow the idea crossed my mind that I would never again set my eyes on her. Her visits had always excited me and the news of her death hit me hard. I at once felt lonely and empty. But my friends here, whose sympathy and affection have always been a source of strength to me, helped to relieve my grief and to raise my spirits. The report on the funeral reinforced my courage. It was a pleasure for me to be informed that my relatives and friends had turned up in large numbers to honour the occasion with their presence and was happy to be able to count you amongst those who paid their last respects. 2. FROM A LETTER TO P K MADIKIZELA, DATED 4 MAY 19692 I had never dreamt that I would never be able to bury ma. On the contrary, I had entertained the hope that I would have the privilege of looking after her in her old age, and be on her side when the fatal hour struck.
What do You think about Conversations With Myself?
