On that fateful Sunday when I came over to visit you, little did I know that it was time for us to part. You had become so much a part of my life that you've left a vacuum that I think I can never fill again. Uncle Yosi as we all affectionately call him picked me up when I lost my father and did all he could to get me to where I find myself now. He encouraged me, would ask me over to his house and campus where I used to watch him play tennis, and he would make me sit with his colleagues and have drinks. The support I had from him was enormous. He was always interested in my progress, wanted to see my results from school, buy any book he thought I might find helpful in my studies and he always had a piece of advice on how to go about my studies. One remarkable thing I can never forget is, even when I had my first child he would buy books with nursery rhymes for her and still buy books for me to study. Even two weeks before his demise he was teaching me to properly back up the data I had collected for my dissertation. On Sunday's he would teach my children to play the piano after church. Last Sunday was a hurdle for me when my son burst out after church "Mummy aren't we going to visit Grandpa Yosi today?" How else can I fill this vacuum? The tears running down my face right now would not permit me to continue to write anymore. Uncle Yosi, where ever you are, you know what my heart says. May the Good Lord keep you until we meet again. Rest in perfect peace Daddy, rest in peace. Araba Laing