Memories

Tuning into a bit of Barbara S there.... midnight not a sound on the pavement. No no this will not do!
Memories, they do form us, they do shape us into the person we are today. What we do with those memories to make us into that person is for us to decide.

Some of my memories are flashbacks. To be brutal, a lot of my memories are drunken ones. I seem to remember them in all their technicolour disaster! And I'm thinking mostly these days of memories of Nhandi but then I got to thinking of women who have been a HUGE part of my life (who aren't family) and my first memories of them. You know like when you meet a person on your first day of high school - when fate puts that person in the seat next to you - you don't know that that person is then going to be still in your life 25 years later. That that person was the only person from your SA group of friends who saw you pregnant, felt CG kick your belly, has visited you in England (and vice versa), shared a bit of your adult life. Bought you a bottle of wine in the Pick and Pay in the Waterfront 11 years ago (which by the way is STILL sitting undrunk in your living room - must be pure vinegar by now). How are you as a 12 year old meant to know all that? Well you don't. But I can still picture myself on that first day in std6 freaking out at the 'big' school stuff and seeing her smile at me and be friendly. That was my Mouse.

EBW - slightly different - my first memory of her is in the lobby of the 3 Arts, although we must have spoken previously to have met up there. By the cigarette machine trying to 'out cool' each other. Hmm the money we could have saved by trying not be so 'rop'. Well that makes me chuckle so much. I can picture myself there in my yellow mini with my pink (cerise) sandals and my green tights just trying so damn hard to fit in. Who would have thought 25 years in we'd still be chatting away on the phone.

It would be normal if say, I'd never moved to another city and then to another country.... if I had stayed where I was then that sort of thing is expected, you keep a few people from your past. But I have, we all have - been overseas, or to other towns. Moved on in life, yet we gravitate back. That's epic. No other word.

Him that can't be named said something to me last year.... how amazed he was at the bond we all had. He couldn't believe that I knew so much about their lives while being on the other side of the world.

I like that, I like that although I only have L2 in this little town, and that I sometimes just wish there was someone around who knew me when I was growing, that there is Mouse and EBW who know that I'm slightly spoilt, that I'm who I am, but who quite like knowing me. And who love me.

It will be that Nhandi is always a part of us. It will be that we will always miss her. I just wish I had more memories to make with her.

Reasoning

Oh dear, I'm so very angry - I just wish this anger would fly away. But vent I shall. 

So off to the Facebook place and there's  a post on N's husband's wall where some woman says she believes that this happened for a reason. And it's taken ALL my willpower and strength NOT to comment. So I thought I'd comment here because what I want to say is this: 

I'm sorry to the above person, I'm sure you mean well but seriously - everything happened for a reason? there's a REASON Nhandi is no longer with us? There's a REASON she's no longer able to be mother to two beautiful children? Husband to a man she loved and a daughter to grieving parents? There's a REASON she's no longer being my best friend? I'd LOVE, just LOVE for you to tell me what this reason is.and maybe then we can all sigh and go 'lovely, there's a reason, that's okay then" 

Obviously I will not comment on that status and air my views because I'm fully aware of what will happen. This poor woman will feel absolutely AWFUL that she's hurt someone's feelings and I'll be made to look like the deranged fool. 

Honestly, though, who the hell says a tragedy like this, happened for a reason? What particular reason could there be? What on this earth could possibly be more important than Nhandi's life?

And I'm perfectly aware that I'm being very irrational and totally not myself at all. That this poor woman who's pissed me off is probably just trying to give words of comfort. But honestly, I can't bear to read any more on facebook. So I won't.

In other news - the kindness of people HAS amazed me. It's something our Mouse said last night "Nhandi ALWAYS saw the good in people, that was her thing" and she did (I've blogged on that before), she always wanted to believe in the idiots of this world. And then was so hurt when they betrayed her trust. However, if her being gone has shown one thing....she was right to have that belief because people are repaying her goodness back. I just wish she could have known how much she was loved. I'm kicking myself I didn't phone, wasn't more assertive, wasn't so concerned with upsetting or intruding with her husband. I shall have that regret for the rest of my life. Why couldn't I pick up the phone? Why did I settle for a stupid flipping text? 

And here come the tears again... which sucks a bit because the anger is a new emotion I'm not wholly used to and appears to be easier to control.

Today I saw

Today I saw a sunbeam (rare occurrence in England) peek through a miserable looking cloud and it seemed to wink at me. Is that me projecting my grief, to make me think it's a little sign from my N to tell me to stop my crying? Or is it really a bit of her? I don't know, but it gave me a little comfort to think it was her way of saying "get on with it now Ali". It does help to believe that.

I go through our text chats, our skype chats and the reoccurring thing she kept telling me to do was 'write, make a story, be a book, write woman write'. And if her passing (I still can't say the word that starts with 'd') makes me get off my slightly squidgy arse and write my heart out, weave my words into a story, ply my pen into something others can read, then I will have done her proud. I know that.

And what better story would there be, that starts 24 years ago in a pool bar in Muizenberg, that tells of an epic bond between a bunch of girls, that shows that friendship CAN be built and sustained during teenage years, transcend over adult years and mark who we are? That no matter the time zone, the distance between us, the not living in the same hemisphere, no matter all those things: a bond is made and a bond is unbreakable.

And I think we gain adult friends who are so close to us. I always think of L2 and how lost I would be without her.

I'll be honest and say that although I had a lot of friends who were girls, I only ever had a handful that I was super uber close to. And only ever one or two at a time. And now that I'm of an age, I have L2, she is my coffee break, my confident, my best friend in adult years. An intense amount of pressure for her but after these last 3 weeks, I know without a doubt, she is a rock and I'm in absolute awe of her strength and courage.

Only if for a night

Only if for a night - Florence and the Machine



I could be writing in my diary tonight about how it's been 6 years since my Nana died and how much I miss her. I could be writing as well about how this is the first year I've not had a text from Nhandi saying 'thinking of you'.
But I can't, physically cannot put pen to paper in that gorgeous book and write about how my heart feels it's been ripped to pieces. How much I miss them both.

Instead, I shall direct you to the link above. A most beautiful song which has reminded me of my Nana since MissJ directed me to this song - weirdly, it reminds her of me too.

Now I listen to it and I am reminded of both my N's.... both who were born on the 23rd December and who  both left me in the month of November.

"And I did cartwheels in your honour" - yes yes - I do and I shall.

The tears come freely of late but they are tears of remembrance and of good times past, as well as soul crushing devastation. I'm counting on the belief that those good times will run riot over the devastation and render it to a dull ache in time.

My favourite poem (besides the ever amazing Jabberwocky) is "Remember" by Christina Rosetti. I can recite it verbatim. I'm realising I was quite the morbid child - if slightly unhinged as I forever had a smile on my face.

Never

I never thought this day would come. I can honestly say never in that sentence. I never thought I'd be my age and sitting on the eve of my best friend's funeral, a million miles from where it will be held. I never thought I'd be at my best friend's funeral, but that's only because I never anticipated it would happen.
And it still doesn't feel real. I don't feel like I'm accepting it. Just as I think maybe I could be - I think no I do not believe I'll never hear her laugh again. Never hear her calling me a noo noo. Never see her smile, have a hug. No, I can't believe it.
What do you mean, Nhandi is no longer here? It just doesn't make any sense. And there you go, just as I think I'm all out of tears, another lot come crashing out of my eyes and down my face.
My fiercest supporter, my strongest critic, the woman who has been in my life for 24 years.
I will never have a friend like her, I have found L2 and MissJ who I know will be in my life forevermore and who I love desperately. L2 is my English Nhandi - without a shadow of a doubt. But Nhandi, Nhandi knew me when I was a spoilt little brat, she knew me from the start of my teenage years and STILL loved me. I've got E and M who know that part of me as well but they've got their own people, their own special friends and while we are close, I'm not 'their person'. I would lay pound to a penny that they love me in the same way and we have a very incredible bond but Nhandi completes that bond and she's not here! It's so hard to explain. But I feel I've lost a piece of who I am. I have lost a little bit of my soul.

I tell you what I am going to do... next August, I'm fetching M and E and I'm squeezing us all into a photo booth.

But for now... now I grieve for the loss of the most stunning woman I have ever known. The girl with the most beautiful smile and heart.

And then, I become the best I can be for her mom and her babies.

My angel, my love, my Noo-Noo, I love you. I wish I had said goodbye.

5 people....

A year ago I met this woman who reminded me so much of Nhandi. A confidence, bubbly, honest woman with curly hair and a massive smile and big heart. I even said to 'him', "isn't she so much like our Nhands?"
 

This lovely amazing woman and I hit it off after 5 seconds, much like Nhands and I did back in 1988. And when it was time to say goodbye she gave me a book that she said I needed. 

I truly believe, after the horrific 3 days I have had, that Nhandi sent Jess to me. She knew I would need her, she knew that book would change me and give me strength and she knew I'd need someone who was like her in my life now that she is no longer here for me.

She knew that I needed someone who would never judge me, would love me through thick and thin and who I would instantly connect with. She let me have Jess. 

I'm so blessed to have had my Noodle for 24 years. My angel who I shared my soul with. A friend said to me this week that best friends are your soul mates. Nhandi was that. No matter the distance she was always a part of who I am. And she will always be that. 

Somewhere out there

Somewhere out there


This song Nhandi used to sing to me and vice versa, whenever I got a letter from here, the lyrics or some of them would be in that letter.

On Thursday night it popped into my head and now it's here.

Somewhere Out There

written by James Horner, Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil

Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight

Somewhere out there someone's saying a prayer
That we'll find one another in that big somewhere out there

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star

And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there if love can see us through
Then we'll be together somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

And even though I know how very far apart we are
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star

And when the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby
It helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky

Somewhere out there if love can see us through
Then we'll be together somewhere out there
Out where dreams come true

My Nhandi

My Nhandi lost her battle this morning at 5.30 South African time. My heart is broken.
I can't believe it to be true. We have so much to do still. We have a million birthdays to catch up on. We have hugs to share, we have giggles yet to be have. It can't be true. It just cannot be.
I can't believe I'll never hear her voice again, never see that gorgeous smile, never hear her infectious laugh.

My darling darling girl. I love you so much.

Hoarders.....

People laugh at me - yes they do. I could end this blog post now really couldn't I?

But I'll continue...

People laugh at me and scoff when they realise the stuff I hoard. I have every little bit of sentiment over the last 30-ahem years of my life. I have birthday cards from milestone birthdays or from people who mean something to me. I also have every love-letter I have ever received - not as many as befits a woman of my age but I digress. I have school diaries with sweet wrappers that have notes on them. Even a train timetable that my friends wrote all over when I left Cape Town. It's sentimental rubbish - as many would say.

And I have been thinking of trashing some of it, but every little one holds a story - that thankfully I still have the faculties to remember. Tonight, all those years of keeping stuff bore fruit.

Upstairs on the landing, I have a cabinet from my England Nana - it's a lovely piece of furniture and it holds things like my hair crap on the top but inside it's a treasure trove. My year books from high school, favourite poetry books and my first ever school suitcase. (I kid you not - I still have my school bag from age 6 - I did say I hoarded).

And in this suitcase are various things, stories I've written and a few photographs. But also I found some birthday cards from my S-A Nana - and they are beautiful. The one is one for CG to treasure, where she writes 'CG has stolen my heart and I so wish I could watch him grow up'.  And the other one where she has realised she's in the stages of dementia and writes to me 'my mind isn't working so well, but it tries really hard'.

And that is partly why I hoard. I had forgotten about those cards and those words and I cannot tell you how lovely it was to read them. To see her handwriting. People just don't write enough to each other these days.... oh I can feel a rant a-brewing. ;)

I might just get those love letters out in a moment for those days when I'm feeling all 'wormy'... you know 'nobody loves me, everybody hates me - I'm gonna eat some worms' kind of mood.

N

My N, my Southern Hemisphere best friend is in hospital, in ICU and I'm so very far away. I'm besides myself with worry and concern and scared witless of what she is going through, will be going through and the outcome. I can only imagine what she is feeling.
My memories of ICU are shitty... it's where I watched my once vibrant and fantastic mother die, to be transformed into a mother I don't know, a mother who has flashes of the humour and sensitivity she once had but who I cannot talk for ages to. I don't want any of that to happen to N. Obviously, I'm projecting my own experiences into the absolute worse case scenario and I'm sure many people trot out of ICU and go back to who they were but I'm very conscious that it's a life-altering experience. If only because you see the very end of life and also the little miracles. It has to change you.
But my N doesn't need to change. She's beautiful, inside and out. Never will you meet a woman who is good all the way through, who would give the last shirt off her back if she knew it would keep you warm. Her last penny if she thought your need was greater than hers. And yet also physically beautiful. Maybe it's her soul shining through her eyes?
N is honest, a rare breed of woman indeed. She will tell you very many home truths. She will tell you if you've hurt her and not a lot of people get this.
She will also laugh like a loon with you.
I've known her since I was my son's age. I was 14. To begin with I was a bit cagey around her, that lasted 5 minutes and then we were inseparable. We didn't even go to the same school yet in the fashion of teenage girls, there wasn't a day we didn't speak. We nearly fell out over a boy once - that lasted 10 minutes. As she was raven haired and full of voluptuousness and I was blonde and not so curvy, we never attracted the same guys. When I moved to another city, we spent our holidays together. There is nothing this woman does not know about me and I know that I can tell her ANYTHING and not be judged. I have tapes of us singing and talking through 1989 and it's hysterical. I like having friends I don't have to entertain, and I didn't have to with N, because she became part of the family. I started typing this with a view to sharing some of our great escapades but it's not necessary.
I just needed to put it out there on cyber-paper, that my every thought and prayer and so on is going to my N, to get better and be well and be sparkly. Please.