Brinley Robertson Murray
27/12/1949 to 28/07/1983

        Brin was the twin of Boyd. He was a normal baby at birth, but unfortunately, at 18 months, he suffered brain fever that retarded him. He began to walk at 15 months, but only after 7 years, did he speak properly.  Mom was told on many occasions, to put him in a home for mental retards, but not my mom, she raised him almost to the extent that he was virtually normal in his mid twenties. He had slight difficulty in reading and writing.
        I seem to remember Brin more than Boyd in the early years, as Brin stayed home, and was prepared to play with me and be my friend when I was 6 and older... He was a wonderful gentle and kind hearted soul. No job was too big to tackle,  although he may at times have let off a little sigh of disagreement.. :-)
        My memories of him maneuvering these massive rocks on the beach, and making a nest of some sort... (A large rock nest...)  His strength was quite amazing.  He loved the mountains in our sleepy little village of "Kommetjie". In fact, as we all grew older, the mountain became a part of our lives. We knew every path, short cut, crevice and cave. On top was old fortresses that stood there from World War II.  These we used to play in, and made them into our own little huts and hideaways.
        When Brin eventually went to work, in "sheltered employment", he made new friends.  There were also many occasions when he would walk from the Train Station back home. A walk of over 10 kilometer's. As I grew up,  Brin became more of a loner, as I had my friends and Brin wasn't part of our plans. Sad, very sad indeed. How I wish I could turn back the clock at times. He had his bicycle, and would strip it for fun, landing up angry with it, when he couldn't reassemble it. He was also "tea crazy", so when mom and I wanted tea, he was quick to volunteer...
        In late July of 1983, he took a stroll up the mountain, where he normally went to be on his own. This was where he played his guitar, and sang or whistled to his hearts content. But this day was to turn fatal, as a big winter storm hit us, almost without warning. Strong winds and squall's of rain drove in. We became concerned for Brin's safety, although we knew his knowledge of the mountains was as good as the back of his hand. When he didn't return by mid-night,  we began to fear something awful had happened. Friends with four wheel drives van's went up the back route as well as a police unit that was contacted. They searched through the night and into the next day... Yet, no trace could be found.
        Months passed, and still no trace of Brin. The wait for news was unbearable at times. We heard that this person, then another had seen him, and so forth. We even had reports of him being seen hiking in the direction of Johannesburg. All of this gave us a glimmer of hope, yet it was still torture.
        Six months passed, and while at work in the navy, one of my bosses came to me with the local newspaper. There was a small article about a body being found at the bottom of a cliff of Kommetjie's mountain. The article mentioned clothing and some of the description were, or seemed to be a vague remembrance of what he wore that day.
        I rushed home, told mom and Melody, and phoned the city morgue, and also contacted our Minister from Church. We went over in his car. When we arrived, a detective brought in a bag of almost unrecognizable clothing. But as soon as we saw it,  we knew it was his. There was also a ticket that was in his trouser pocket,  where he had paid his final account on his bicycle. The date of death was established as the day he went up that mountain.
        Somehow, the final knowledge of Brin's death, almost came to the family as a relief, rather than sadness and grief, as we knew he was in God's loving hands. We acknowledge that he is in a far better place than we could ever imagine, and to top it all, he has reunited with Dad. He now waits for our arrival, whenever God's decision for us, is up on this earth..

       I praise God dearly for the time that He shared Brin with us. We were/are truly blessed to have had him in our presence. 
Brin was addicted to reading his Bible, and his favourite Biblical verse, was Psalm 23.