Tag: me

The One Where I Wrap Up

It’s my last day in the office today. Today is that day, every year where I reflect. I’m doing it simply this year…Simply, for a lot of reasons…

1. It has been a year of love.

2. It has been a year of home. Real, true home, in every sense of the word. I have not travelled much at all this year, aside from a quick trip to Cape Town, and another one next week.

3. It has been a year of growing up.

4. It has been a year of loss.

5. It has been a year of being proud of the people I love.

6. It has been a year of hard work.

7. It has been a year of coming full circle, via a 360-kickflip of life.

8. It has been a year of learning how to sleep.

9. It has been a year of ranting but, for a change, I mostly ranted to someone. I love that man of mine.

10. It has been a year of gratitude.

11. It has been a year of Androidness.

12. It has been a year of being able to trust.

Thank you for this year.

Twelve.

 

Dear you,

I realise I haven’t blogged in a while. You mentioned it to me the other day and well, you know how it is. You know how strung between thin lines of work I have been, and have understood when I’ve needed to shout about it. You’ve held my hand when I didn’t know what else to do, and you’re always there.

Always with me. My life thus far has never been about constants. My life thus far has always been about the chop and change of circumstance, and maniacal scramble towards getting things done that hopefully matter but, sometimes leave me feeling a little kicked in the teeth.

Enough with the whining about why I haven’t written. Let’s get to the good stuff.

Every day. Every single day, I am simply and fantastically awed by you. You. You, my constant. No matter what, and no matter when, you’re there. You see, I didn’t expect that. At every turn, both during this amazing year and before then, you were constant. You’ve become the person I know I can lean on, believe in and laugh with, without concern about whether or not I’ll dribble tea down my chin.

You’ve loved me right through losing my mother. You’ve loved me right through facing up to some of life’s horrible demons. You’ve loved me straight past my sometimes crazy ways. You’ve loved me for them, in spite of them. You’ve loved me when I feel I cannot do enough. And you’ve loved me right through my over-functioning. You love me even though I can’t navigate my way through the kitchen without the aid of a map and a flashlight. Heh.

You do things that make me explode with pride. You do them so well, you sometimes intimidate me. You make me shake just knowing that in that swell of pride of just knowing you, you’re also the person who knows all my secrets. In that moment of pure joy where you’ve succeeded at something that I know you put all your energy into, I know how much of yourself you give. All of it. Always.

You’ve taken me aside, put my head straight. Given me perspective when I could not see it myself. You’ve let me love you back in any and every way I can. You’ve loved me right through insomnia and weirdly, because of you, I sleep better than I ever have before.

You’ve opened up my world. A world I believed, so firmly, that was well-rounded and protected. You’ve made me see that it is possible to have a safe place that you don’t have to shut everyone else out of. You’ve reminded me of what’s important. That it’s not about how much power I give to something, it’s how much of me I put in.

You’ve danced with me whenever we can. Whether we’re waiting for dinner, or shopping, or just getting up to get something. You dance with me and you make me smile.

A smile that swims straight through me. It can’t be tempered or tamed. It bursts, without direction. Sometimes it becomes the frothing giggles and I can’t stop but to feel the intense relief of knowing that I can laugh without worrying when it will turn into a frown.

You’ve let me stop worrying. Suddenly my frown lines are not permanent fixtures. It’s been hard for me to let go. So hard. But you’ve let me let go, and squeezed my hand to let me know I’m alright.

I never expected you. That still gets me every single time I think about it. You were the unexpected early Christmas present that is my gift every day. You’ve blessed me more than I can count.

You’re in pictures with me. Sometimes I just stare and think “Hello, this is my life. Life check. Your boyfriend is hot and is with you. Life check. Awesome”.

You’re okay with me crying. Whether I’m crying because I’m sad, touched by something or crying from happiness. You deal with my big emotional responses to events, people, pictures, words. You love me for them, even though they’re sometimes bigger than I can put into words.

You share with me. We divulge the minutiae of our days with extreme detail and I feel a part of your every move. Even the most banal parts of my day, I can tell you. You let me explain the problem at hand, without trying to immediately fix it. You know, more than anyone, more than even myself, that I can get through things without being fixed.

And then. And then if that was not enough. There’s the secret club of two that I am only sometimes invited to. The secret club of two, comprised of my life’s greatest surprises and ultimate joys. This is the part where I fall apart into a puddle of happy tears whilst typing this. This is the part where I wish, every day, that I could show my dad, like a silly schoolgirl, you. The secret club of two where my heart rests.

You know, the first morning you woke up early and played with Cam so that I could sleep in. You remember that? I know you do. When I awoke, I listened. You two were talking, still new in your affection for each other but, already unbridled in your adoration. I listened and swooned. You were playing and talking so sweetly, that half of my heart did not want to disturb the beautiful experience of just listening to you.

And the best part? The best part is that it just keeps getting better. You’re there for her, whenever and however. You’re celebrating her every success, and not afraid to help her with direction in life. You’re understanding when she cries and you listen to her fantastic stories of mermaids under the sea. Remember that time we went down to the beach? And you, whilst we were walking on the pier, pretended to spot a mermaid? That sits with me every day. You tap into the fairytales of her mind, and let her live that world through and through. I mean, really, how many times have you played the part of the handsome prince to her playtime meanderings? Is it 605 thousand times or 606 thousand times?

We’re at dinner, just the three of us and we’re talking about the wonders of the world. You’re teaching her about things I didn’t even know existed. You’re teaching me about things I nonchalantly used to ignore.

You’re loving both of us, and you’re not scared to. Not at all.

My love. My unexpected love. My absolute, fearless and wonderful love. All I have are the words…

Thank you

You made my heart come home. Happy Anniversary. I love you. X

thank you.

I realise I write, think, speak alot about gratitude. I’m not religious, not in any conventional sense, nor am I the most gracious of people. I am, to the strongest point possible, as honest as I can be at any time. I have my faults, I have my own judgements that I cast upon myself and I totally believe that I can be a better person, every day. I’m a big believer that life is  a work in progress, and that it’s all about the journey. I know that I’m trying to be that better person.

Sometimes, though, because I am human and therefore given to self-absorbed behaviour, I start to lose sight of that. I sometimes battle to overcome what appears to be the simplest misgiving, or the tiniest event.

But, on the roundabout of life, you do gain one thing. Perspective.

It’s been a Monday. Busy and, overall, a bit of a hard day to keep perspective. I am determined though. I’ve had a lot to think about. So, here is my perspective today:

I am thankful for:

1. Family. In whatever way they appear around you, and whatever your relationship with them, family are the people who knew you when you peed your pants, and still love you, even when you can be hard to love. The only biological family I have left are my siblings and Cam. And I treasure them, more than I can tell them.

2. Family. Yeah, I said that twice. I meant it. The people who become like your family, and your heart and mind consider them so. They win their way into your life, and your heart. They’re the people you call when you have news, whether it’s good or bad. They’re the ones who you can speak your soul to, and not have to worry that you sound stupid. For me, they’re the people I trust my heart with, that I trust Cameron’s heart with, and with whom I am at home. It’s a very strange sensation, because with not having my parents anymore, somehow, the Universe has still given back…and now I have a bigger family than I ever thought I did. Cam and I are so blessed by the family love we have been surrounded with. The family that makes up my family. The family that makes up the army of people who love us, just as we are.

3. Friends. The people who take the time to remind you that you’re not insane, just silly. And they love you for that silliness. True friends don’t need to speak all the time, but you know they are there. Sometimes you don’t need someone to talk to, you just need someone to sit with you. Cam and I are very rich in friends.

4. Love. Enduring love. Love that sees straight past my own sometimes idiotic tendencies, and is infinite without condition. Something I never really knew of before and do now. My heart rests here.

5. Home. The roof over our head, filled with love and cosiness. Our television with its sixty-seventh re-run of Strawberry Shortcake on, and crayons all over the floor. Dishes in the sink from dinner, and a bathroom with bottles of bubbles.

6. Work. Even though everybody (don’t lie now, dudes, don’t lie) lives for the weekend, holiday, pay-day…I have work. It keeps me busy and keeps us afloat. It lets me give Cameron the necessities for living. It enables me to live the life we create.

7. Food. Damn, that dinner was good. Sometimes I’m still amazed I can make it. This coming from the girl who didn’t know how to boil an egg when she first moved out of home. True story. Ask anyone who I had over for dinner, circa 2001, and they’ll tell you about the half-frozen dinners and dodgy meals. Heh.

8. My daughter. You see, Cam was not expected. Like all the wonderful and great things in my life, it is always the unexpected that truly makes my life worth it. And there she was. And there she is, sleeping now. Probably dreaming of princesses, mermaids and cake. Her simple perspective on life at every turn keeps me grounded. She is the biggest blessing I have ever received. Every day, when we get home and recount our best and worst parts of the day, I am awed by her little stories of life. They say that when you become a parent, your heart begins to beat outside of your body. It’s entirely true.

9. Hope. Even when life gets hard, there’s always hope.

10. Learning. The opportunity of learning lurks around the corner in every day. Within the ability to learn and gain new knowledge, in whatever form, lies an immense joy.

11. Attitude. Being able to choose your approach to whatever situation. It’s you that determines your attitude, every day.

Excuse the rhyme but…

Today my attitude is gratitude.

Something’s got me thinking.

So, Spud is being released here. Frankly, I can’t wait to see it and I’m hoping it lives up to the book’s brilliance.

Funny thing, someone I don’t really know anymore turned me on to it and read the book in a day, flat. Guess I should just be thankful they did!

Spud is a funny story, endearing and honest. It made me think about my high school days, and wow, there are some stories there. None of which my daughter will ever know. As far as she is to know, I was and still am the nerdy girl with the aliceband pushed too far forward on her head. Deal? Awesome.

It does make me reminisce though. If I think about the funny girl-fights that happened and gossip. Wow. Gossip. So hurtful and yet it exponentially grows as you progress through high school. High school was not my favourite place, but I held it together with some amazing friends and I was lucky enough to have some truly wonderful teachers.

If I think about it though, those amazing friends and I (and yes, we are all still close) got into a lot of trouble. We were fabulous truants, horrendous story-spinners and wow, our dress sense made no sense. It was all boys, bubblegum and sneaky cigarettes at the far end of the school field. In truth though, I think our worst crime in the eyes of the rulebook was the day we all wore black bras under our white shirts. A terrible crime, for which we were given detention. Truth is, our washing machine broke at home and I didn’t have a choice! That didn’t mean the principal believed me though so it was off to detention for me!

All of us grew our hair long, cut it off, coloured it and rolled down our socks at the same time. It’s funny really, that the very school rules we were instructed to abide by, were often the ones that stuck us together. Were it not for the terribly out-dated rules of “young ladies will not be seen with their socks rolled down”, I doubt I would’ve found some of the friends I still have today. Or the time I was reprimanded for having a skirt that was just shy of the knee…and told to have it altered and fixed immediately… on the very last day I would ever have to wear it. Heh.

What were your favourite school memories? Letters passed under desks or furiously ignoring gossip? Blog about it and you stand a chance of winning 4 tickets to the premiere in one of the 3 cities. Spud the Movie premieres in November across the country:

1. Johannesburg Saturday 13 November 2010 @ 17:30 Nu Metro Montecasino
2. Cape Town Wednesday 17 November 2010 @ 18:30 Nu Metro V&A Waterfront
3. Durban Friday 19 November 2010 @ 18:30 Nu Metro Suncoast Casino

Go and relive a little of your high school hilarity!

So…

I realise I’m not writing much. Apologies.

It turns out that playing with Cam in the garden, talking with her about the differences between mammals and other animals (yes, really, she knows this stuff! I only learnt that in Std 2!)…is taking precedence over being in front of this screen.

That sometimes holding the hand of the man I love is more important than typing away trying to make sense of a world I still battle to understand sometimes.

That’s okay, I think. You think?

In the meantime though, know this.

That I’m still writing. You might not see it here right now but, I am.

It might not be on a piece of paper but, it’s in my head.

It might not be words yet but, it’s in my heart.

I’m not going anywhere, I’m just a little quieter than usual.

…you know, i knew it would happen…

I wish I could capture for you, each moment where you made my heart sing. Each moment where I felt bereft and you lifted me straight out of it.

It’s Wednesday evening and I’ve fast realised I’ve become a bad blogger. Sorry. Fuck. It’s been a crazy time. I have new boundaries and I realised something today. I realised that these boundaries I’ve created are actually good for me. Stop the shit-ass press because I never, in a million squillion years would ever have thought that I would say that. I’m re-teaching myself how to sleep, slaying that insomnia dragon. It’s doing me a world of good. It’s doing every aspect of my life a world of good. It’s healing, I’m dreaming and my word I feel more capable.

Fuck, I have to be right now. Work is insane. Busy is too short a word to cut it. It’s probably more like multitaskingisnotenoughandfourteencloneswillnotcutitsohowaboutyoujustdivideyourselfintoseventeen…

andthenwecanseehowthatpansout.

Yeah, that busy. I love this being busy though. It stops me from the abyss of too much self-involvement and trying to make sense of the unsensible that used to drive me mad…

But, I’ve been thinking about an approach to all of it. You see, there’s all these hats I wear – the mama one, the worker one, the family one, the sister one, the friend one, the girlfriend one and the just-me one. And, weirdly, somehow, they all work together to create this life I have. This life I am blessed with. Some days, one or two of those hats goes skew. That’s okay. It happens and that’s life. Here’s the thing though…I think I’m learning how not to rush it. True, I’m always trying to be organised. Or, as Sheena and I would say, whoreganised. In my head, I keep those little hats in their boxes, and when it’s their time to be my focus, I wear it. So, at work, it’s work. At home, it’s mama. It’s hard to do though, when I have spent so much time in my life trying to be everything, all at once. (Hat-tip to the person who called me that, once).

And then, then there is love. The love that knows each of these hats upon my head and is with me through all of them.

So, I’m here. I’m writing. I’m guessing you want an update…

Cath…Cath is good. Busy. Good. Thinking. Writing little notes in her notebook every day of things I must write. And I will, and I am. I have my really crap days. I won’t lie. But I have someone to tell them to. Wow, how liberating. I just call and vent and feel better. I have my safe space and it’s without condition. Where the two busy lives intersect, the space that is warm and loving. I love that space. That space of knowing. I’ve not travelled this year. It’s been weird for me a bit but, at the same time, I finally feel like I’m laying good foundations to live the life I know I deserve. And to share it. I love sharing my life.

Cam…Cam is amazing. She’s so tall now. So tall I just know I’ll be walking her into school one day and they’ll ask “who’s the kid and who’s the parent here?”. Heh. So full of amazing vocabulary, so full of absolute love. Our daily talk in the bath (yes, we still do it, every night), she tells me her favourite part of her day, and her worst part of her day. Perhaps the most awe-inspiring part for me is not that she segments her day but that she can tell me exactly how she feels about a day. To look at this beautiful child and know that she feels capable of expressing her emotions, naming them and knowing them…I just feel so honoured that she chose me to be her mama. She got full marks in her ballet report this term and is swimming like a fish. Some of you know why, to me, that’s one of the greatest victories I will ever witness. She loves our friends. She just loves them. Her confidence is catapulting and I feel so proud of her. So much mamapride overwhelms me some days that I spill over and just smilecry. My heart.

Shmooshy…he’s fantastic. He’s fantastic with me, he’s fantastic with Cam. He reminds me that my loneliness is a thing of the past and with him, with him I am wonderful, no matter what the day brings to my door. He makes my heart feel safe. He makes my heart feel home.

Loss…Yes. This year. Alot of it. But there is good loss and bad loss. Bad loss? My mother. You never really know it until you cannot phone her anymore. You never really know until you go to do cards and gifts for grandparents day and suddenly you realise that they don’t deliver to Heaven. I was talking with my brother a few weeks back and it came down to this one statement – I don’t have my parents anymore. There’s a loss and a liberation in that. A loss of childhood, a liberation into independence. It’s strange really and I’m still feeling my way around it, through it, towards it and beyond it. I don’t think there is a beyond it, there is only I don’t have my parents anymore.

In my life. In my life I see courage and beauty. I see strength and I see weakness. I see them both as beautiful, for what they are. I feel the feeling of being thirty, and suddenly I’m not as afraid as I once thought I was.

Sheena always said I was fearless. I’m starting to believe her.


flux and flotsam but, pulling on through.

1/Work. There is a lot of it and my time is pressured and short.

2/Home. We have to find a new one.

3/Loss. I feel like I’ve lost more than I can handle this year. I realise that the time where my heart would realise, fully, that I don’t have my mom or my dad anymore would come. It’s come.

4/Writing. It’s weird. I just can’t write right now. Because my brain is just flummoxed with work right now, and I need time away from my computer to just.breathe.

5/The constants. The constants in my life. My beautiful Cameron. My wonderful Shmooshy. My amazing friends. These are the things that keep me going right now. If you’re reading this, you’re probably one of them.

6/I feel like I’m in the waiting room of life right now. Working very hard whilst they call my number. And, I am. For now, I realise, the Universe is telling me so many things. All of them point towards making me, more me again. Towards the one thing that I love the most – home. Loss hits you in weird ways. It never tells you how. But, when it does, it does.

7/Looking back. Looking back over the last year of my life, I see the most joy and the most tears. The joy comes from my constants. The tears from the loss I now feel.

8/There’s nothing wrong with feeling it. The hardest part is admitting to it.

9/I admit it.

10/4 am. Cam woke me up at 4am to play dolls. I could’ve told her I just wanted to sleep. But, no, playing with Cam is far more important than sleep. It’s more important than writing this. It’s more important than anything. When I was very little, my mom would wake up early and play with me. It was our special time, the time when the world was still sleeping and there was just us. The time I had with Cameron this morning reminded me of that. It’s so precious and I will do anything in my power to have more of that time, that wonderful quiet time for her and I.

11/The cave. Sheena and I talk about the cave alot. We know each other’s well. She knows I’m in mine. And it’s so weirdly lovely…this time, though, I’m not alone in my cave. I have my constants and they are with me. Always. I feel such comfort and love here. I don’t feel alone. Not feeling alone is the most liberating feeling I’ve ever experienced.

12/I love you my friends. I love you my Shmoo. I love you my Cam. I’m the luckiest girl and mama in the world. My life is so rich with people. My life is golden with you in it. You are the golden light at the end of the tunnel, and I never knew how bright it could shine. Til there was all of you. I heart my army of me. x

Lucky, lucky me. I may be quieter than usual with the blog updates right now. I apologise. I’m still here. I promise.

Blessed

I am thirty, and I am totally okay with it.

I am loved, beyond all sphere of my former imagination.

I am blessed, in ways I could never have expected.

I am laughing, in the way that made my parents smile.

I am jubilant, in spite of the sometimes-trudge through life.

I am exuberant, and I could not care about your opinion on it.

I am mama, and I am the luckiest one there is.

I am proud, and I have nothing to apologise for today.

I am nufi, and this is my nickname.

I am a friend, and in friends I am so rich.

I am steeped in history, and excited for the future.

I am dancing, and the music is my own tune.

I am all I said I wanted to be, and that’s entirely myself.

I am crying, for tears are honest and I thrive on honesty.

I am overwhelmed with gifts, and feel the warmth of thoughts against my hands.

I am holding hands, as I jump in to the next decade.

And as for you, Miss Gates…be warned 🙂

To rest…five things.

To rest.

My mother. In ritual and in heart, she is at rest. Dancing with my dad. Smiling at us. Laughing once again.

My soul. Cuddled between friends, who made me laugh so much, cleared my head and held my hand. ‘Til sunrise and beyond.

My heart. You come home from a tropical island and you hold my hand while I have that cry I have been holding back on. I tell you the things I needed to tell you and texts or emails just wouldn’t cut it. You dance with me whilst we wait for things. You’re totally okay with my bad days, and you smile with me through the sunshine. I fall asleep, curled into you. I sleep the sleep that my heart so needs, and your warmth envelopes me like a cocoon.

My daughter. My daughter turns five in two days. She’s quiet in churches, she’s learning how to add. She cuddles in to me as we talk about our days, and she tells me she loves me in a million different ways.  She tells me I’m the mommy she always wished for, and I tell she’s the daughter I always wished for. Her love knows no bounds, and her nearly five year old miracle of life is my every day blessing of beauty and grace.

My hand. At rest upon this keyboard again, I write and I will never end.