It is a sad time. Just realising that I’ll never see your smile again. Every time I’d see you, you would smile. Even if you were angry and annoyed by me, you would smile. I’m never going to see your smile again.
Even your last words to me; you were smiling. Telling me I’m beautiful. You said it again, “You are beautiful, my love”. I’ll never hear those words again. Those were the words you continually said, since we met in 1995.
Thank you for loving me. You loved me and gave me beautiful children. I am what I am today because you were. In our marriage, you allowed me to be. You were the wind beneath my wings. You allowed me to fly and believed in me even when I didn’t.
I remember during the elections in 2006. I kept on saying, “Love, where would I start with these elections? I’ve never done anything so huge”. You kept on saying, “Love, you’ll be ok. You will do it”.
You believed in me so much that, to you, nothing was impossible. I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss you as a friend; as a person, because you were a good person. You were gracious, loving and happy. You followed your name. You didn’t like confrontation. You didn’t like ugly things. You’d rather let things not be discussed. That’s the person you were.
I don’t know the timing… there’s never a good time to pass on. But your timing… you made so many promises in the past two weeks. You said you’d watch me do the Cape Argus in 2014. You said, “I promise you, I’ll watch you do the Cape Argus”. You said you’d watch me do the 94.7. You promised me that you’d try and be a better husband. So many promises that you just left. But I suppose you’ll fulfill them in your next lifetime.
I admire your positive spirit. For always believing even when the chips were down. You believed. The other day, the other week, you referred to me as a prodigal son. When the son came back home, his father welcomed him with open arms. When I came back home, you welcomed me.
You said to me, “Love, the road ahead is going to be difficult. If we are going to fix our marriage, the road will be difficult”. I didn’t understand what you meant. You were right. The road ahead without you as a husband as a friend is going to be difficult. You said “till death do us part”. And when you were shouting at me, you said “till death do us part”.
That’s what we said in front of the priest, love. You did that. We are apart because of death. You didn’t want anything else. You said things will get back; things will work out because you believed in us even when I thought there was no us. I can’t believe I’ll never hear you say “my wife”.
I’m happy that you died. You died with your family; together with your wife and two kids. You died while doing the things you live. You watched your son play soccer and went shopping with your princess. Your last words “where is my son”, “I’m dying?” are testament to the kind of father that you were. You were thinking about your son, Sithenkosi. You were in pain, you may have frantically searched for your son, and kept asking “where is my son”.
I promise you that, your children, I will raise them in a way that you will be proud of. I know how much you loved them; they were your everything. I promise you that I will stop fighting. If I want to fight, I’ll think of you and stop.
I’m not going to fight ever again. It is well with my soul. Rest in peace, my love, father of my children, rest in peace and rise again in glory.
*Mbuli's children, Siphosihle and Sithenkosi gave moving tributes to their father. The funeral was attended by celebrities, colleagues, family, friends and politicians.