Oh 2018, if you were a human I would tell you to fuck off. Not good to see you go. Not bye. Just fuck off.
It has been, without a doubt, the toughest year of my life.
My poor body. What a fight it had to fight to make it to the end of this year. Rounds and rounds of chemo, chemo allergy, hospitalization, blood thinner injections, blood tests, sonars, xrays, MRI, radiations, operations, burns… The list is longer than I wish to remember. It was no walk in the park and in all honesty it is still not. My breast still hurts, my legs are in constant pain (sometimes agony) and my feet are permanently sore. All thanks to the side effects of my last chemo.
Emotionally I’m not in a good place. I’ve had some serious parenting downs and after finishing my cancer treatment I’ve been emotional. I don’t know why, I just am.
I’ve come to realize that people I thought would be there for me, would not. They did not support me in the way I deserved and they should have.
There were obviously some good times and good people who came into my life. For that I am thankful. I’m still alive and in remission (as is my mom) and for that I’m hugely thankful. I have a special, very honest and open relationship with my children. Different from most parents I think and for that I’m thankful.
2018… Off you will fuck.
When we were little, my dad used to work for United Bank. (I actually ended up working for them as well at some stage during my studies)
Anyway, I can clearly remember that when we used to visit my dad in his office I would ask him if I could play with his phone.
NOT the office phone because that was simply not done.
Obviously not the cellphone for this was way before cellphones.
I was this little “phone” Actually a calculator. It reminds me so of that time in our lives. I still feel like that little girl. I can clearly remember “talking” and calculating
even as I got older
My dad had a client this afternoon and they had their little granddaughter with them. He heard her asking if she could play with the phone and just as he stretched to take hold of this phone, he realized that in fact she wanted her Ouma’s smart phone.
How things have changed.
How time flies as well. No longer a little girl, holding a pretend phone against her ear, while talking to pretend clients and doing pretend calculations. I now work with my dad, with proper phone against the ear, talking to very real clients with regards to their very real tax calculations.
This morning I found a box while looking for something else.
A box filled with memories.
Filled with letters from my youth.
Letters written to me by friends, boyfriends. Journals that I kept (I do apologize to all teachers who had to read that handwriting!). Faded photos.
Will our kids still have this? Do they still write letters or is it all on whatsapp and BBM and text messages? Photos shared electronically. Never printed out to keep.
I hope that it is not lost. The feel of paper between your fingers, with the memories just there for you to read. One letter and I’m 12 again. Or sitting in my
boring English class.
What a treasure to find.
An end to an era.
That is what yesterday was.
Our bulletjie rugby journey started nine years ago when Quintus first started. Even before Zander was born.
Zander grew up next to the field. First year he was just the baby in the sling. Hardly showing his face. Then the little boy who carried rugby balls, like other kids carried soft toys.
Finally he could wait no longer and started playing rugby before he even went to school.
How things have changed since then, yet stayed the same.
Still his big brother giving hugs and advice.
Still the thing with his knees.
Always wanting to be the kicker
From that first try to one of his last. He has made us proud bulletjie parents
It’s over too quickly
Day nine, tell a story from your childhood
There are obviously many childhood stories to be remembered and told. We would have to start a fire and get ready for a long night. Yet, I have to tell only one.
I clearly remember Sundays at the dam. We would wake up hoping for the wind to blow. We had a catamaran. I loved it when the wind would push it over and we all fell in the water. Or holding on to the pipe in the front and being pulled through the water. Or if the wind would calm down, just swimming next to the catamaran, waiting for the wind to pick up again.
Often my parents would buy a bucket of KFC. A big treat for us.
Wish we took more photos way back then.
I know everyone said that this would happen. That within a blink of the eye, they would grow up. That I should savor every moment.
And I did. I still do. Every second of every day.
Yet, within what seemed like months, my grade R and then Grade 1 little boy turned into the young man he is now.
Today he finished his primary school years.
8 years gone by just like that.
“Quintus, in these 8 years you have done nothing but make me proud.
From that little boy who made sure everyone had tuck money, to the one giving away his market day purchase to a younger boy when it was sold out.
From the little boy who ran onto the rugby field in Grade R to tackle a boy his friends missed, to the 1st team rugby player who stood back for no-one.
From the little boy who sang in the school choir, to the one now a member of the North West Children’s choir.
You have grown into such a special, awesome boy.
I hope your high school years will be brilliant. These are the years you will really remember as an adult. You make amazing memories in High School. I hope that all your memories will be good.
I love you.
I am proud of you always.
Nope. Not the conventional mother at all.
I’m the mom who keeps the kids out of school because it’s snowing and they have never experienced snow before. Because it most probably will never snow (proper white snow that your legs get lost in) in Klerksdorp. (oh and the poor little snow men are tiny, since we don’t own mittens and your hands tend to get very cold for some reason!)
I’m the mom that keeps them out of school to take them to the Voortrekker monument. Won’t you remember more about it when you have been to the museum? Actually seen the toys they played with. The flags. The guns. They way they lived? Won’t you appreciate your language more if you understand how they fought for it?
I’m the mom who takes them out of school early, so that they can meet up with Ouma and Oupa at the train station. For them to see the very smart and luxurious Blue Train. To get the chance to meet their butler and take a small quick tour of the train.
Yes, I’m the mom who feels that some days they can learn more from missing day at school.
Don’t tell the teachers though lol
I was in Std 5 or today’s Grade 7.
Captian of our 1st netbal team.
Apparently very popular, since I had a different boyfriend every week.
Hard working. I got mad with myself if I got less than 80 % for an exam.
Yet if I think back on those days, I remember feeling sad, immature and often angry.
I had fights with my mom often (and still got hidings at that age!)
It is funny how my outward appearance seemed so in control.
When in fact I was often hurt and angry.
Unsure of myelf.
After all this time. 25 years later, not much have changed.
I wonder who didn’t know. I wonder who only found out the next day. I wonder if anyone went to bed that night, not knowing that America was under attack.
I was in the office. Tommie phoned and said that America is under attack. I ran into the house and I think my mom was already watching the news. I watch the 2nd plane hit the towers. Absolute horror.
I remember running back to the office. My dad had a client. I burst in and said that America is under attack. I don’t think he completely believed me.
I remember wanting to protect Quintus, even though we were miles away and not in any kind of danger at all. I felt the world, the way things were, could not be trusted. If America was under attack, what else could happen.
We followed the news. I went home and followed it from there. I remember switching channels when Quintus walked into the room, even though he was only 16 months old. I wanted to shield him from it.
I remember the helpless feeling, the total sadness, anger and shock, when the towers collapsed.
America, I remember.
I read an article about matric farewells in a magazine last night and thought of mine.
My brother was in a serious car accident, just before our matric farewell. Thankfully just after our exams.
We spent 10 days in Pretoria, while he was in ICU. There were days when we didn’t think he would make it and the very last thing on my mind was my matric farewell.
He got discharged the day of my matric farewell. My friend phoned and asked if I would still be going and I said that there is no way. I had no dress (it wasn’t finished by the time we left), I was still in Pretoria. No shoes. No-one to do my hair. I was not a make-up wearing teenager, so I needed someone to help in that department and my mom wouldn’t be up to it when we got home. Most importantly, I also had no date. My ex-boyfriend had moved to the Cape and was going to come down for the farewell. That got cancelled with the accident.
My eldest brother convinced me to go though and drove me back to Klerksdorp late that morning. We got home after lunch. I got my dress (UGLY), went to buy shoes. Could find NO shoes that would go with the dress, so ended up painting them! Went to a hairdresser I didn’t know (didn’t look good at all) and my mom ended up being able to put on my make-up.
Our neighbour’s son was so kind as to go with me, dressed in his church suit. He is a year (maybe 2?) younger than me but at least I had a guy on my side.
As you all know, the car is a big issue too. For us? My mom took us in her own car and we were dropped 2 blocks away from the hall. There was just no time for her to wait in that long line of cars to drop us off in front of the hall, since she needed to urgently get back to my brother.
I didn’t go to the after-party. I went home. I don’t have fond memories of that night and probably shouldn’t have gone. However, now I can say that I did go, rather than saying I didn’t.
I’m second from the right.
The next time they play against each other, Quintus will be 21.
That realization was the reason my dad bought tickets and took Quintus to the final match.
What an amazing experience. Just imagine what it will mean to Quintus when he is 21 and they play against each other again. When he remembers the match his granddad took him to, when he was 9 years old.
My boys are SO privileged to have the grandparents they have.
Here’s some photos my dad took:
Thanks Dad for creating this memory with Quintus.
Friday was a tough day. We were at a funeral of one of Tommie’s friends and it broke him. It was so painful for me to watch this big man, my husband, cry like that. The way we stopped trying to wipe the tears. It was just a constant waterfall of tears. It was horrible. The pain was raw.
We were to go to a concert of Steve Hofmeyr that night with friends, but our local rugby team played a game in honour of this friend and Tommie wanted to go. I told him to go and say goodbye to Johan, the way he would want his friends to do.
So instead it was just us women. I know my Mom loves Neil Diamond. Since this was Steve who was going to sing Neil Diamond songs, I asked if she wanted to go along with us. My mom was dressed and ready in 15 minutes. I had another ticket and Quintus asked to go as well. After Jason said it was not a problem, Quintus went with for his very first concert.
It was such a pleasure to watch him. To see the excitement in his eyes. The experience out there for us all to see. Steve even came to shake his hand. He loved that.
After the show we stood in the line so that Quintus could get his signature.
I got them to smile for a photo and my son was beyond happy.
We got home and Jason wanted a signature as well. So we rushed back. It’s just fair. We found him still standing there, giving out signatures, smiling his face into a spasm. Jason got his signature and a photo as well.
It was so sweet to watch them star struck and all. I remember the very first time I went to see a show of Steve. Ag shame, we were just a handful of people. I have many photos of us lol We were both much younger. I think that was also before he started with his collection of woman and many children…
At the airshow today, one guy crashed his R30 000 remote control plane (they opened the show) A very experienced guy, since he flies for South Africa. He was trying to make an emergency landing after losing his engine. Unfortunately for him, he could not. He crashed landed and broke the front part of his plane. Thankfully the pilot was not injured.
We were saying how we hope he has insurance. This made me think of the time I was still studying and working as a short term insurance broker. I was extremely naive even at the age of 22. I think it was obvious and one of the car salesmen must have decided to pull a trick on me.…thinking about it, it could even be Tommie who got someone to do that.
Anyway, this guy phoned and asked what it would cost to insure his pen1s. *Instant blush* What? Your what? His pen1s he says again. Long silence before I gather my thoughts again and reply “I’m sorry but we won’t be able to give you a quote unless you give me a photo”.
That was the end of that phone call!
I just realized that I treat my body in pretty much the same way as I treat the silence in the house.
I haven’t been to gym almost all year. Shocking I know. So what do I do to make up for this? I starve myself all morning long. By lunch time I eat cause I’m starving and I’m at my folks house and my mom makes awesome food. By the time I get home my body is just so thankful that it got food in the first place that it goes completely haywire and has anything and everything that is edible.
Now see. That’s the silence in our home. Silence for days weeks. Then all of a sudden some words exchanged and I talk back. Cause I hate the silence and my kids don’t need this crap. Then by night time I’m just SO thankful that everyone is having normal conversation that I never bring up the real issues in case it brings back the silence again.
I remember as a child I had this dream so many times. I would see two lines moving towards each other. Not directly but very slowlymoving towards each other. Then just as they get close, everything goes haywire. All of a sudden there’s a million other lines that cross each other at a huge speed and seem to roll into one huge mass of lines. Eventually the mass will disappear and there will be two lines. Moving towards each other. Slowly.
I think that dream is like life. Everything goes smoothly. Slowly. At a steady pace. Then things go absolutely haywire very quickly. Now for some unknown reason the silence is broken and I’m just thankful for that.
It’s not right but it’s better than the silence.
Bullshit! This specific saying ticks me off and yeah that’s not the only one.
Rape doesn’t kill you but it sure as hell doesn’t make you stronger. Losing a child doesn’t kill you but sure as hell doesn’t make you stronger.
Many many things happen in life that doesn’t make you stronger. A failed marriage. It changes you. Doesn’t make you stronger.
Then people are known to say that talking about stuff makes it easier.
WHAT? Come on. So ripping open your heart and opening up old scars because there is little reminder of previous pain will make it better? Nope. Sorry. You won’t convince me off that one.
Talking about current issues, issues that you have some power in changing. Yes. that makes sense.
I have no clue what the point of this post is.
I have always wanted an old school desk. Clearly I don’t have bad school memories! I cannot really say why but it’s something that I wanted and I’m kinda glad to give that tiny piece of my school history to the boys.
We bought one in Parys today and Jason is in love with the desk. Mmm…like mother like son?
Looking at this desk brings back some memories. Remember how we carved out our names or the guy you loved in that desk? Trying to hide it from the teacher but brag to your friends.
Not that I ever did this!
I look at this and I wonder. Does Rhiana still know Johan? How old were they when they were in love? Was this carved into the desk at the beginning of the school year? Did they break up soon after and thus forced the guy/girl to stare at that all year long?
So many kids have sat at that exact desk. Counting down the hours to the end of the school day. Worrying over exams. Falling in and out of love. Where are all those kids today?
Is really weird how looking at that desk makes school feel like so many ages ago but also like it was just yesterday.
Contrary to my parent’s believe I grew up to be a very innocent teenager. Also one with really really bad hairstyles (I’m the one with the terribly short hair on the left . I mean I could have been a boy!l)
I remember so clearly one specific night. I must have been about 15 and we were at my brother’s school for some kind of social event. I was dating a guy for at least a year and he was there too. Him and I decided to go for a walk around the rugby field (no lights though) and my parents got so upset. Demanding us to come back as soon as they found out we were out in the dark. They even told me that I would no longer be seeing this boy once they dropped him off. I was confused as to why. We had done nothing wrong. We weren’t planning on doing anything wrong. We just went for a walk.
It is only recently that I realized all boys just want one thing. Especially at that age. I just didn’t know maybe? Or maybe I just had proper boyfriends since not one ever tried to make a move on me like that.
To this day I’m amazed at how innocent I was. How naive I suppose. Sjoe imagine that. Hopefully my boys will date girls like that and be proper boys that will allow them to be innocent for as long as possible.
As a rule I don’t sit at the end of the year and look back at what has happened. I don’t make resolutions – well if I do it’s just for the joke of it.
I sure don’t plan on keeping them. I kinda just ease into the new year and hope to write the correct date when I sign cheques lol
However…tonight….memories of the year are haunting me. This has not been a good year on many many levels. Yes it could have been much worse…that’s not what it’s about. I feel that my life was out of my control for a long time this year. I feel decisions were made for me. Not saying they were bad but I feel it was pretty much out of my control. I have tried to push the pain, the hurt, the silence deep deep away. Tonight it is coming out and running through my mind.
I want to wake up and it must be 2008. No pain. No hurt. No silence. No more 2007.
Do you remember the good old roadhouses? Windows rolled down (yes – roll down windows!) even in the winter…when you try to wind that window up as high as possible to keep the cold out. Toasted sandwiches or nice big hamburgers. Chips soaked in vinegar. Big milkshakes. All the kids piled into the back seat. All of us. Friends too. Those were the days.
This weekend I hope to do stuff that will create memories with the boys. Fun things. Everyday fun things.
As a schoolgirl I studied too much. No really. I wasn’t a geek – I did sports and loved it, I had many friends, sang in the choir all of that but I honestly think I studied too much. I used to end up in the top 5 for my grade and we had this
fuckwitish wonderful tradition where the principle would call the top 5 of each grade up to the stage. You get to parade like a cow at an auction stand in front of the school and be applauded.
Now I suppose I am not normal (which I really am not) but I used to detest that! Most of the time I wouldn’t go up even though the principle would be looking me in the eye. Yes…I was
‘hardegat’ up stream even then already. The principle did call me in once or twice and I made it clear that I will not be going on stage. They kept on calling me up. I kept not going.
What is reminding me of that weird behaviour of mine? I saw this quote on my Google homepage tonight and I had nothing to blog about lol Had to find something right!
To refuse awards is another way of accepting them with more noise than is normal. – Peter Ustinov
Does it scare you that today is Friday the 13th? It doesn’t scare me. Not at all. What does scare me though? All those ‘Friday the 13th’ movies I watched. All those ‘Night Mare on Elm Street’
Why did I do that to myself? I used to be SO frightened. I would be too scared to walk in the dark – and by that I mean from my room to the bathroom. I would run the entire way.
No matter how many times I told myself that it’s just a movie. That they have camera men following every move. I knew all of that, yet I was scared beyond reason.
Today you won’t find me watching horror movies. I just won’t. I don’t see the need to scare myself like that. I remember my mom watching horror movies with us when we were kids. She would lie on the bed holding on to my dad’s hand…she would have their hands over her eyes while she does her best to peek through her fingers. I used to laugh so much. Now not. I think she was braver than me lol
Update on my back – it’s better. I can’t run. Heck I can hardly walk without crying but I can walk. I even got myself into the bath this morning. I can’t believe I haven’t been to work for 3 days now. This is so not like me. My back has to be better tomorrow. Quintus is playing rugby and I just can’t miss it. I just can’t.
Did you know my name means “black” I don’t believe in the meaning of names. That if you name means “great big chief of chickens” that you will actually be that. I was planning on writing about my stress and how it makes me feel as though I’m surrounded by black. Made me think of the meaning of my name. Maybe I am living up to my name lol
I put a lot of stress on myself. I really battle leaving something half done. It makes me feel torn up inside. Anxiety galore. I feel I can’t do anything but think of how I’m going to complete that task. Hence the reason I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed. I was busy working on the financial statements for one client and was battling to reconcile the outstanding tax payable. I had to leave it on Friday as I am mom too and needed to go home. Since then I have just been drowned by more work that needed my urgent attention and I couldn’t go back to that. This morning I just ignored all else and worked on that problem. It is now solved and no more black I see. It is indeed a sunny day. I’m still swimming between papers, files and computer but I am now not drowning. Not now.
You know this black issue of mine has always been with me. I remember studying. Studying part-time and correspondence at that is not the easiest of tasks. I would get very stressed exam times. So much so that I was convinced I would fail and could not see or imagine the day after the exam. I could only see that and it would feel extremely dark. Totally unnecessary of course as I never failed a single subject and mostly got over 70 % for all of them.
Best I learn to just see beyond the current issue. I blame it on my dad though. He gets like that too. 😉
I was just listening to music on the radio while working. Some of the songs brought back memories of times spent with previous boyfriends. Not that I had many anyway. Only three before Tommie and two of those were in high school.
I remember when I dated H. We dated for over two years and the entire school thought we would be together until the “end” (would that have been the end of High School or until we got married? Who knows) Anyway we did have some really good times together. I still only have fond memories of him even though he broke up with me. I remember one night there was a braai (barbecue) at my brother’s High School and we were there too. Him and I went to walk around the track in the dark. My folks were SO upset. Totally thinking that we were doing something
sexual bad. Which btw we did not lol We were seriously just walking around the track. Eventually though I suppose he decided that my morals were too high and he left me for another girl that didn’t have such high morals. I understand that he is now gay.
Then I went out with such a nice guy. We used to dance. A lot. It was SO nice. We went to all school dances available and danced the night away. I can’t remember us making out too much but the dancing was awesome. He turned out to be gay too.
Then I went out with G for many years. Four years if I remember correctly. He is not gay. He is a real free soul though. I can’t see him settling down although he has been with a woman for 5 years now I think.
What was my point? Don’t know but it was thinking back. I was obviously not one for short term relationships but it does seem as though I turn men away from women lol Okay, not really. I have always wondered if I was more “willing” if those two would still have ended up gay. (Totally joking)Maybe I put them off by hardly allowing them past second base (what on earth is second base anyway!?)