Despite the fact that we were first cousins, and very much to my regret, I did not know Rob well. My family was living in Rhodesia, Rob’s in South Africa, so we had only brief encounters when I was growing up. Then we went our separate ways across the world – Rob to England, France, Australia, Greece and me to the United States.

Lesley and I visited Rob and Greer in Camden Town in the early 70s, while on a scruffy student safari around Europe. I recall a very fun evening having stimulating conversations with a group of intellectual people with whom we would never normally have interacted (medical students tended to be pretty unifocal!).

I did not see Rob again until we visited Sydney in 1996. This time it was a little different. We were now mature (??) adults with children of our own. We had a delightful day with Rob, who showed us aspects of Sydney that we would not have seen as regular tourists. I really fell in love with the city of our mutual grandfather’s birth. We have been back to visit Sydney twice more and, hopefully, will have that pleasure again in the future.

In 2017 we were on a cruise that called at Melbourne. Co-incidentally Rob was visiting at the time, so we spent a wonderful day with all three Samuels cousins – Shelley, Brenda, and Rob. I was, once again, sad to realize that our families had grown up totally apart. We have taken that lesson to heart and have tried to ensure that our own children, while living across a continent from their cousins, nevertheless were able to visit and interact with each other on a frequent basis.

Lastly, most sadly, and almost too late, I think that Rob and I grew quite close during his last, awful illness. As a medical oncologist, I hope that I was able to help Rob to understand his illness and the treatments, and support him, to an extent that brief conversations with his French physicians could not. We corresponded extensively (around 300 emails back and forth over the course of the year!) and I was able to learn a little about Rob the person, Rob the poet, Rob the thinker, as well as about Rob, the patient.

I am very grateful for that.

Ave atque Vale

Dear Friend

We met more than 65 years ago when we were 13, in a time unlike that of today, growing up in apartheid South Africa, trying to make sense of the world and our part in it. We became close friends through adventures together, learning to love Cape Town.

We both struggled to find direction and both undertook career changes, making us closer. We married and brought children into the world maintaining tenuous contact writing letters across continents (before the internet, mobile phones and What’s app). We shared our growing appreciation of the nature of man and his impact on the planet.

Over the years we have been blessed, spending rich time together; talking, experiencing, exploring, communicating. Evolving Technology making this easier. Both of us became teachers, mentoring the next generation.

I have never had a friend as close as you, sharing my life so intricately, sharing theirs so fully. My days have been enriched by your presence by your conversation and insights. We have had differences yet accepted them and concentrated on our agreements. We have been blessed with so much for so many years, such harmony; I know I shall not find such again.

We have been especially close over this past year of suffering. I have been in awe of your courage and dignity, you have been an example for us that will follow.

Your life has been intensely positive, the world is a better place for your being. You have enriched the lives of your family, friends, students and impacted deeply on our understanding of the urban environment.

You will I know always be part of the way I experience the world, daily on my shoulder, and because of your presence seeing things I'd not seen before. I am poorer without you; I miss you every day

All my love

Lester

Death is Nothing at All

Death is nothing at all.

I have only slipped away to the next room.

I am I and you are you.

Whatever we were to each other,

That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.

Speak to me in the easy way

which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone.

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed

at the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word

that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect.

Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same that it ever was.

There is absolute unbroken continuity.

Why should I be out of mind

because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.

For an interval.

Somewhere. Very near.

Just around the corner.

All is well.

Henry Scott Holland

Many years together

Closest of friends 

So many memories

Never to be forgotten 

Always in my heart