Super Mom


Deep thoughts for a young boy

Quintus has always been mature for his age. Wise beyond his years.

He has two very close friends. One lost his dad to cancer last year. The other friend’s parents got divorced.

This has had such a huge effect on him. He was close to his friend’s dad that past away. Obviously with Tommie’s cancer last year, that was a worry. He seems okay with it now.

However divorce has been on his mind allot lately. He mentioned to my mom that people get divorced because they aren’t honest with each other. Very true and insightful coming from such a young kid.

I took them to the movies today and he asked why I spoil them so. Do I have bad news that I must share with them? He lives in fear that we will get divorced.

That is just so sad.

This is sad

As we all know,  our Olympic cyclist died this week.  Doing what he loves most. 

So young.
So unfair.

Such an horrible loss for his family.
For the cycling community.
For south Africa.

As I went through my Facebook feed tonight I was shocked.  Too shocked to leave a comment.  Not wanting to give the individual any airtime.  Though I will here.  I will share my feelings here.

She said that so many black people lost their lives on the road this week.  Why focus on one white person.  Death is death.

Oh the racist card.

Many people lost their lives.  Horrible.  Tragic. 

But he was on Olympian. A winner of the Cape epic. Still young,  ready for bigger things.
To represent our country again and again.

He is not in the news because he is white.

He is in the news because he represented our country.

Such a pity that she lacks the intelligence to understand that.
Oh….. And that is not a black thing … Just in case you want to throw the racist card.

Standing tall

Last Thursday, Quintus showed maturity beyond his age.  Maybe not for the first in his life but this time it was different.  He stepped up and offered  support  at a time when most adults don’t know what to say.

Last Thursday an awesome man, dad and husband passed away. Taken away by cancer. He was that good guy that should never have been taken so early, so young.

Quintus has known him for more than half of his life. Practically grown up in front of him. Spent many a night keeping him awake over weekends, I am sure. Yet he was there for his friend. Even though he has also lost someone close to him, he chose to be there for his friend. To stand next to him. Cry with him. Laugh with him. Share memories with him.

I stand in awe of my son.

“Quintus, the support you have offered this past week, will never be forgotten. Jacques will remember this time as a time of hurt, feeling lost but also knowing that he had his best friend right there next to him. Helping him.

I am proud of you beyond words.  I am so proud to call you my son. So thankful.

I love you.”

The things they talk about :(

Zander came to sit on my desk nogal, to draw a picture on my desk pad.  After covering all that is left of March, I wasn’t willing to give up April.  He was adamant that he wanted to draw me a picture, so I just turned the deskpad around and gave him the whole back to draw on.

He started drawing himself.  Stopping to ask me every now and again, if it looks like him.


Of course I said yes.  Just look at that happy little boy he drew.  It has to be Zander.

He finished it up and said that I must keep this.

“One day when I’m buried Mommy, you can look at this and then you won’t forget me. But I asked Jesus not to take me just yet and not you or my family.”


It was time to say goodbye

Today we said goodbye to our Boerboel, Lalla. She was 13 years old.
We’ve had her since we moved into our home.
We got her before we had kids.
She is the one dog that the boys knew from when they were born.

Thirteen years. That’s a long time. But this morning, when I looked at her I knew it was time.
Just yesterday we spoke about her and I said that I don’t think we should have her put down yet. That I don’t think she’s in pain.
This morning she couldn’t stand up. It was time. And as always I wonder if I shouldn’t have taken her sooner.

She will be missed.

Lala collage

Was the time right?

Today I let the boys swim.

Not for the first time in our pool, since our maid’s son drowned but for the first time with her here.

For 2 months after his death, I didn’t want the boys to swim in our pool at all.  After that, I let them swim but only when she wasn’t home.

Now it’s December holiday.  It’s hot.  I leave work early.  They have friends over.  They want to swim.

I can’t keep on saying that they can only swim from 5 pm.  It’s not fair to punish them for something that they weren’t responsible for.  It’s not right that they have to tell their friends they can’t swim.  They can’t swim until after Prudence leaves, which will be just before their parents come to pick them up.

On the other hand, I do understand that this is upsetting for Prudence.  I do understand that it is opening wounds.  I get that and I wish I could protect her from further pain.  Heck, I wish it never happened.  That she still had her son.  I wish this was not an issue.

When is it okay, when has enough time passed before I can tell the boys to enjoy their pool, whenever they want to. For her I suppose never but I can’t forever tell them not to swim when she is here.



She came into my room this morning and apologized.  She said that she wasn’t willing to see my point of view (or that of the boys) and she gets that they have the right to swim.

I explained to her that maybe in time, as she hears them enjoy themselves, she will start to also associate the pool with good things.  I hope?

Anyway, I’m glad we could talk about it.  Yesterday she wasn’t willing to discuss it at all.  I couldn’t even sleep last night.

Happy Easter

Happy Easter Everyone

With the death of my friend’s young daughter (7),  I just realized how prescious our time is with our kids.  Today I played more in the sandpit, threw more rugby balls, hit more tennis balls and spent more time with a sad child, than I normally would.

What if I didn’t have the chance to do that again?

Mommy, it won’t be nice

Last night as I was taking a break from reality bath, Zander made himself comfortable on my bed.  Ready for a deep conversation.

“Mom, when you die, it won’t be nice.  Then it will be only me, my dad and my brothers.  That won’t be nice”

Okay, small moment of fear.

“Uhmmm…Sweetie, we must just pray and ask Jesus that I’ll be with you for a long long time”

“But he will be upset then.  He will be cross”

“No Angel.  I don’t think Jesus will be upset if we ask him to be with you for a long time still”

He thought about this.  Very quietly.  I could see he was upset.

I went to sit with him after my bath and said that I will always be with him, even I passed away.  That I’ll always be in his heart.  That I will be there, even when he can’t see me.

I always tell the boys that I love them, soos die son (like the sun)  This has a great deal of meaning to us but one of the things this represents, is that the sun is there…even when you can’t see it.

That seemed to make him feel better, even though he had tears in his eyes.

I love these boys.

Soos die son

My biggest fear

One of my very biggest fears are one of my kids drowning. My kids don’t swim without me around. They wear floating devices. We have a fence around our pool, as well as a net over the pool. We … my entire family…we are all neurotic I suppose.

This morning our neighbour phoned. I don’t know her at all but she got our number from our garden boy. She wanted to know if I knew what horrible thing had happened at my house. I million things ran through my mind but a kid who drowned is definitely not one of them.
She told me that my housekeeper’s son had drowned in our pool. That she heard her screaming and ran over the street to see what happened. She phoned the ambulance and police. It was too late though. The little boy (5) had drowned. Once the ambulance got there, there was nothing they could do to save him.

His mom (who has only been working for me just over a month) got her son out of the pool. She must have been petrified. She can’t swim either. She ran for help and as I understand he was still breathing. I don’t understand if he was still breathing that he couldn’t be helped.

I wish I was home. Firstly my pool net wouldn’t be off. Also I can do CPR.

Since we aren’t home and there are no kids at our house, Tommie doesn’t put the net back on once he has swam. There is no reason to. We have a fence around the pool anyway.
She never said that she was going to bring him to our house, or I would have asked Tommie to put the net back on.
As I understand she was going to buy him some clothes this afternoon. He must have been so excited. Excited to go to work with his mom. Excited to get new clothes.

This is so not right. My heart is so very very sore.

Let it not be in vain

I never did quite get it when people said: “Let their death not be in vain”.  How could there ever be good in anyone’s death. 

I feel differently now. 

I have been a member of an online group for 8 years now.  We all ‘met’ when we were pregnant with our children who are now 7.  We share things there that we often don’t even share with family.  Sometimes we drift away from the group but always come back.  We always have a connection.  We know each other’s children.  We have seen them grow.

Now one of our friends passed away. 

From breast cancer. 


Now there’s a husband without a wife.  Two gorgeous, sweet children without a mother.

Let this be a reminder to all of us to go for breast exams.  Try and catch that awful cancer before it’s too late.  When you don’t feel like going, just think of this mother.  This mother that would give anything to be with her children for just one more day.  Children would give anything to be with their mom just one more day.

Goodbye Paula


I’m sorry


Today, 1 July 2009, Francine lost her fight. 

and I’m so sorry… for so many reasons. 

I so believed that you would get better.  I never thought for one moment that you would come back to work but I believed that you would go home again.

I’m so sorry. 

I’ll do what I can to help this little girl of yours.

I’m so sorry.

From ashes to ashes

My grandfather is no more.   Like the big black book says “From ashes to ashes”. 

I was really sad today.  I was more emotional and upset than I thought I would be.  We all followed the pall-bearers as they carried my grandfather the coffin out.  We all watched, in silence, as they drove away with the granddad we will never see again.  There was not one person who didn’t have tears in their eyes.

The family and friends turned around to enjoy the cucumber and tomato sandwiches snacks that the sweet old ladies of the church makes.  I kept to myself an eye on the boys. 

My aunt came to me and asked why I looked so sad…and the thing is, I knew she was sad too.  So was every other person there.  Yet, they seemed to put that in their back pocket, put on a mask and enjoy the conversations.  I could not.  I could not have that experience, that last goodbye and then just go on again.

Nothing wrong with not being able to obviously. Just as there is nothing wrong with doing so.  Losing my grandfather has hit me harder than I thought.

Alone no more

As I sit here crying in the dark, I am thankful that he is no longer alone.  That he is finally with his wife again after missing her for 10 years and 5 months.  At every visit in recent years, he would say that one must never be alone.   That it’s the loneliness that gets to him.

After her funeral I was standing outside with him, holding his hand, as they drove away with my gran’s body to have her cremated.  He said, more to himself than me:  “There goes my everything”.  I never could listen to that song without thinking about him. 

I hear footsteps slowly walking,
As they gently walk across a lonely floor,
And a voice is softly saying,
Darling, this will be good-bye for ever more.

There goes my reason for living,
There goes the one of my dreams,
There goes my only possession,
There goes my everything.

As my memory turns back the pages,
I can see the happy years we had before,
Now the love that kept this old heart beating,
Has been shattered by the closing of the door

No matter how old (he was to turn 88 in January) or how prepared, it still hits you.  When my cellphone rang with my dad’s ringing tone, I answered it in split seconds. I knew.  I knew he had passed away.

Yes, he is no longer in pain.  Yes, this is better for him.  It still hurts.  My Dad and his sisters have still lost their father.  The man who raised them.  Who had a big part in who they are now.

I sit here wondering if I should wake up Tommie.  I don’t think I will.  Maybe I want to cry alone.  I wonder how I will go to sleep.  How do I make my mind say ‘good night’ when it wanted to say ‘good bye’.  I wanted to see him, just one last time.  Although I think we would always want one last time.  Even if you just had.

This was the last time we saw my Oupa.  7 July 2008.



There’s so many things he should have done to protect my dog.  I have spoken to him so many times about being careful.  Rather putting the dogs in the bakkie when he drives in.  Letting the kids hold on to them. Just to be aware that they could run under the wheels of his car.

He thought I was being a pain and a nagging wife.

He was wrong.

I just want him to apologize.  Yet I also don’t want to lay the blame on him.  Not because I think he is not to blame but what is the use?  It won’t bring Benji back.  It will just cause hurt and anger and emotions that will lead to nothing.

Quintus found out today and thought his dad was joking.  It took him a while to realize that it really did happen, that Benji really is dead.  Like me, he wants to cry alone.  I went to him and gave a big hug, comforted him but let him go when he moved away.  Later on I saw him sit by Benji’s grave. 

I feel better now that he knows.  With that anxiety of how he will react now gone, it feels like I can begin to accept this.

Just so sad

Yesterday I was working a bit later than normal, when I got a phone call from Tommie.

“Where are you?”

“Still at work but I’m leaving now”

“I don’t think you should come home.  I drove over Benji”

I couldn’t breath….”Is he dead”


I just threw the phone down, told my parents who heard me over the phone and drove home.  I was home in what felt like seconds.  I found Tommie standing by Benji.  Crying.  I made sure he was dead…not just badly injured.  But he was…he was dead.

I stood by him and just cried until my legs could hold me no more.  I sat there and cried until I knew that we had to bury him.  Tommie was frozen.  I could see that he didn’t know what to do.  I think he was completely unsure of how I would react.  Would I blame him?  Scream at him?  I could not.  I walked inside and just cried.  Hugged a pillow and cried.

I’m sorry I didn’t come home sooner.  He wouldn’t have run out.  I’m just so very very sad.

I took this photo of him only 2 weeks ago.

I’m going to miss him so very much.  We only got him less than a year ago.  Such a very very short time.  I want him back.  I want yesterday back. . . .

New. Not replaced.

We lost our beloved family dog in June this year.  The boys have been missing her so much.  They have been asking for a new dog almost weekly.  Even though they so badly want a new dog, they know that it will not replace her.  It will merely be a new dog to start new memories with to fill a gap but not replace.

We met our newest little dog yesterday.  He is only four weeks old and he will only join our family for keeps on 16 November.  (The boys are counting the days)

We have been trying to find a name that we all like and so many times we find a name that they feel reminds them of their little Diba too much.  They clearly don’t want a dog to replace her.  No name to constantly remind them of her.  Rather a dog that will be it’s own person dog.  Not a memory of another. 

This is very true.  Nothing and no-one can replace a lost loved one.  My cousin just gave birth to a baby boy on 2 November.  The sweetest most gorgeous tiny little boy.  Daniel.  We were due at the same time when I was expecting Zander and her little girl died just a week before she was due to be born.  Daniel will never replace her.  I am sure that looking at him is very bitter sweet…thinking that her little girl was supposed to be that full of life, crying that much just after birth. 

Daniel will never replace her.  He will be loved and cherished as his own person.  We will always miss that little girl but I believe she is in heaven.  I believe that she waited up in heaven for her grandmother when she passed away 11 months later.


Saying goodbye always sucks.  Especially so when you don’t even know that you are saying goodbye.  I don’t get the point of tears either.  It doesn’t fix what you are crying about and it just makes you feel even more crap when you are done.  Plus you end up with an ugly face.

Today I had to say goodbye to our family pet.  After losing Droopy a dog who shared that difficult ‘from teenager to settled adult’ phase with me and being so completely heartbroken when he died, I promised myself that I would not get that attached to a dog again.  Who was I kidding?

We got this little dog when the local SPCA (animal shelter) phoned to ask if we would take her or else they would have to have her put down.  We gladly brought her into our home and she became much loved by all. 

This was taken the day we got her.

She had SUCH a brilliant personality.  She completely put up with the little guys as they learned to touch softly, start to walk and fall on her, play with them.  Special special little dog.  Gosh how I miss her.

We got home today from our night away and found her on our lawn…  The kids were in the car and I expected total hysteria from them.  I kept my composure so that I could give them support.  When they ran into the house pretty much okay though, I broke down.  Our big dog is responsible for this and I’m just sad.  I’m just so sad.  I’m going to miss her so very very much.

So far the boys are fine!?  How is that possible?  No questions.  No tears.  Nothing.  I do think the fact that I have Wenchy’s son Kevin here might make a difference too.  They were so consumed with him being here that her death might not have hit home just yet.

I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you Diba.  I’m going to miss you.  Lots.