Last night at about this time I spoke to a dear and old friend. he talked about his terrible pain, a pain that doctors could not diagnose. He spoke of how doctors lost interest if their solution failed. He told of the anti-depressants he was on. My last words to him were, "Ek hoop jou pyn gee jou rus vanaand." "I hope your pain gives you respite tonight." This morning my son called. Krikkie Kruger a dear and long-time friend had died of a massive heart attack. He was only 51 years old.
" And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs" (Frost)
Today I mourned, in tears and memories. Death is always always too soon.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Just a thought
It's quite late. The house is quiet except for the cat. She needs a room. my study is out of bounds because the hamster lives here. I think I'm 5 seconds away from giving up on capital letters, I so often mistype them. I'm not e e cummings but I think he had a point, it's just easier and he made it into poetry.
I'm not sure why I write this blog. I hate the schlep of getting here, I often lose my posts I prefer the written word. Tonight I have no answer.
I'm not sure why I write this blog. I hate the schlep of getting here, I often lose my posts I prefer the written word. Tonight I have no answer.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Spring Time
"Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully out of Nowhere)"
It seems one moment it's still winter and then Spring is about in frail green leaves, new bird songs and people move with some smile in their walks. My Spring arrives with birds. Tiny birds appear in my garden and one day I hear the call of a "Piet my vrou" a shy dull looking bird with a call full of memories of long sunny days and slow sunsets. The vineyards are newly green and somehow you can smell the possibility of great wines and imagine even greater occasions for drinking them.
Me, I love the winter and the summer can be pretty hot at times but spring is just perfect, like the littlest bear's porridge, not too hot and not too cold, just right!
(which comes carefully out of Nowhere)"
It seems one moment it's still winter and then Spring is about in frail green leaves, new bird songs and people move with some smile in their walks. My Spring arrives with birds. Tiny birds appear in my garden and one day I hear the call of a "Piet my vrou" a shy dull looking bird with a call full of memories of long sunny days and slow sunsets. The vineyards are newly green and somehow you can smell the possibility of great wines and imagine even greater occasions for drinking them.
Me, I love the winter and the summer can be pretty hot at times but spring is just perfect, like the littlest bear's porridge, not too hot and not too cold, just right!
Monday, August 31, 2009
"The sound of music"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EYAUazLI9k&annotation_id=annotation_72265&feature=iv%3e
If you haven't seen the above youtube yet, do try to find it and just smile. What is it about "The Sound of music" that makes it, for me at least, such a pleasure to watch over and over again? Maybe it's the catchy tunes, the "triumph over evil" or maybe it's just the exuberance of the film as a whole. Everything works out for the best and it's done to uplifting joyful music. Wouldn't a little life tune be fun sometimes?
If you haven't seen the above youtube yet, do try to find it and just smile. What is it about "The Sound of music" that makes it, for me at least, such a pleasure to watch over and over again? Maybe it's the catchy tunes, the "triumph over evil" or maybe it's just the exuberance of the film as a whole. Everything works out for the best and it's done to uplifting joyful music. Wouldn't a little life tune be fun sometimes?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
My mother
On 21 August it was my mother's birthday. she would have been 84, maybe or even 81. She had two different dates for her birth and an obsession about not letting her real age be known. When she died I left out her birth date on purpose on the notification. When people asked me how old she was I replied that she would not have wanted me to tell.
I think about my mother with great great sadness, not because I lost my mother but because her life was such a waste. She died isolated and sad and I could not help her. She was angry with me with everybody and because I was her caretaker she often vented on me. The rational together me knows I should not have taken it personally but I did. Once when I took her to the hospital, deceiving her that I was merely taking her to the clinic for vitamin B12 injections (the elixir for all ills), she became furious with the doctor, the nurses, telling them that there was nothing wrong with her, she just needed to sleep. And then she turned to me and spewed forth such venom, I was left breathless. She reviled my father, my sister, my brother and before she let loose her anger on me, I fled, ostensibly to get her stuff at the home where she was staying. She became desperately ill and nearly died and never referred to her outburst again. But then, we only had careful conversations. My mother's anger was in a class of its own.
She died about 9 months later, from brain cancer. She just slowly left and we never talked about anything more serious than the weather. Except one day, she looked at me and said, "I'm so afraid for twelve" I didn't know what she meant and replied, Don't worry too much Mom, after all twelve is older than eleven and younger that thirteen. she looked at me with her clear blue eyes and said "You know I've never thought about it in that way" and she half smiled and that was the end of that conversation.
At her funeral there were only about 15 people but the blessing was that they told me what she had meant to them, what a good and kind and supportive friend and surrogate granny she had been. It was good to know that my mother was more than the sad angry woman I had known all my life.
I think about my mother with great great sadness, not because I lost my mother but because her life was such a waste. She died isolated and sad and I could not help her. She was angry with me with everybody and because I was her caretaker she often vented on me. The rational together me knows I should not have taken it personally but I did. Once when I took her to the hospital, deceiving her that I was merely taking her to the clinic for vitamin B12 injections (the elixir for all ills), she became furious with the doctor, the nurses, telling them that there was nothing wrong with her, she just needed to sleep. And then she turned to me and spewed forth such venom, I was left breathless. She reviled my father, my sister, my brother and before she let loose her anger on me, I fled, ostensibly to get her stuff at the home where she was staying. She became desperately ill and nearly died and never referred to her outburst again. But then, we only had careful conversations. My mother's anger was in a class of its own.
She died about 9 months later, from brain cancer. She just slowly left and we never talked about anything more serious than the weather. Except one day, she looked at me and said, "I'm so afraid for twelve" I didn't know what she meant and replied, Don't worry too much Mom, after all twelve is older than eleven and younger that thirteen. she looked at me with her clear blue eyes and said "You know I've never thought about it in that way" and she half smiled and that was the end of that conversation.
At her funeral there were only about 15 people but the blessing was that they told me what she had meant to them, what a good and kind and supportive friend and surrogate granny she had been. It was good to know that my mother was more than the sad angry woman I had known all my life.
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