18 months

So its 18 months today since Nhandi left this world. A whole year and a half. And it's Mother's Day in South Africa today. Had she still been with us, I bet she would have been posting about how special her day had been, how blessed she was to be the mother of two beautiful children. How she loved her own mom. That sort of thing.
And yet she's not here to do all those things.
18 months.. and I still remember that morning so clearly. How I tried not to answer the phone as it was going to be bad news. How I lay in my bed thinking that if I didn't answer the phone, my life would stay as it was - I would still have a best friend to see and visit and love and talk to. So I lay there thinking all that, still woefully drunk from the night before and then I knew I couldn't delay it any longer, I pulled myself up, I sat on the side of my bed and took the call that changed how my life would be from now on.
And when you get news like that, your brain won't take it in. The first words are of disbelief - no no no was what came out of my mouth. While your brain is processing this - your body is going into shock. It refuses to work the way it needs to. My legs decided they were useless. They couldn't hold my weight. I crumpled to the floor and there I stayed - making all the phone calls, I never thought I'd have to. Waking people up to inform them a beauty had passed away. At some point, I ended up in my kitchen - I don't know how I got there, I might have crawled.
What the brain does then is remarkable. It shows you normality. Look a kettle, put it on. There's your cup, insert coffee, sugar and milk. The tears stop. You pour the water, you stir. You sip. And then boom! The brain remembers why you woke up so early, and the "no no no" starts again. I lay on my carpet. I sobbed, I stopped, I started again. The whole day was like that. The shock, the disbelief, the grief, the numbness.

If I look to that day 18 months ago, when my heart broke. I think yes, I have gotten better. But every now and again (like today), my brain and my body go into what I think is a mini-shock and I get a refresher in the grief stakes. I am still disbelieving she is gone.

Just last week, I was going through an old phone and came across a photo she had sent me of little G - they had been in the supermarket and G had wanted a packed of crisps - my favourite kind. Nhandi was in hysterics - she had never promoted that kind of snack to G before. Nhandi reckoned I had influenced from afar. She sent me the picture, saying she was laughing so much - that my god-daughter was clearly following in my footsteps. And it's a beautiful picture and one I had forgotten about. I do like that I still see signs for my girl here and there. Maybe they are not signs at all but that I'm looking for affirmation she is still here. Either or, they help my brain and body with the loss.

And I still really really miss her. I wish I could tell her about TheBear and about CG leaving school and how emo I'm being about it all. All wishes that will never come true.

So a happy memory to end off because I refuse to acknowledge how sad I feel right now and instead I want to laugh when I think of her *Remember by Christina Rosetti*

And I'm typing this and laughing and realising I'm not going to share anything because all the stories that are popping into my head are ones that shouldn't be mentioned!

Ah my noo noo, my noodles, my nhands, you are still so missed and loved and cherished. #wishyouwerehere

Queries

I don’t pretend to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even pretend to know what the questions are half the time.

And then you get asked a question out of the blue… would you ever get married?

I start to analyse myself. Do I say I’ve never thought about it, because it’s easier to say that, than the more honest: no one has ever been serious about wifeing me up? And maybe that’s why it’s something I’ve not really thought of. And it goes back to a previous blog where I’ve said that society or the people within our worlds, have this perception that life is all about a happy ever after, fairytale style. That you’ve not been a success unless you’ve done it all: travelling, working an amazing career, marriage and perfect kids. It’s taken me a while to work out that I’m NOT a failure because all those things haven’t featured in my life (yet) and that my happy ever is different to others.

So, would I ever get married? I guess I would – not the big fat fuss of those mahoosive white weddings…that’s never going to be me.

And as I type this, I realise the reason I don’t really know the answer, is because it’s not that big a deal. I’m okay with me, I’m actually damned more than okay with living how I want to live. I DO want to travel more, I DO want to write more, I do want to ENJOY more. That’s all in MY grasp to do. Do I need another person to do that? I guess not, but it would be nice to share the moments. I imagine that my head feels I’m too young for all this settling down shit.

CG is leaving school

Sitting at the lap top and I'm having a blub... a bit of an emo moment.

I have just received an email from CG's school, detailing when his last day is and so on and all about exams that are forthcoming. And it hits me, that although he is going to college in September, the 20th May (less than a month away) will be the last day of a school career. And I feel like I've done that journey with him. Yes I have done that journey. It's been a challenging one at times, not down to CG, but due to the bullying, the trying to get to grips with a school system I didn't go through, a one totally different to mine. But that's not why I'm blubbing.

All of a sudden, I'm remembering my little boy in his first school uniform, so proud of himself as a 'big boy', giving me a kiss and waving me off and being just so damn excited. All of 4 years old. I'm remembering him leaving primary school with not even a backward glance, so keen to be on his way to high school. And his first day of high school 5 years ago nearly: Age 11, catching the bus, again a kiss and a wave and excited for his first day. And I suspect that it'll be the same for college, I'll spend the day wondering every minute, if he's okay, if he's eaten his lunch, made friends. He'll be excited.

But that's it, on the 20 May, CG will finish high school.No more school uniform, no more school diary, no more homework clubs etc. Wow, it's been a helluva 12 years. I'm sad but I'm hoping college will be everything for him that school wasn't.

Today I feel like a mom - most days I feel I'm just winging it and closing my eyes and hoping for the best - much like pin the tail on a donkey. But today, I feel like a mother who's realising her baby boy is no longer a boy at all. But a young man on the verge of the next chapter of his life.

Passion

The problem with my words, is that they come to me as I'm dropping off to sleep.

So last night, early this morning, around 1am, I started a train of thought, and I considered voice noting it all, as it was flowing quite nicely in my head. I'll remember that for the morning, was my last conscious thought. Bollocks if it was. I can remember the subject, can I remember my words...can I hell!

But it was about passion - when a person chooses to share their passion with me - be it a few pieces of it, their hopes and dreams - I feel privileged. I feel 'blessed' (wrong word, I used the right word at 1am though) that they've thought highly enough of me to share. That this is what makes them tick, makes them face each crappy day (that they might have) because their aspiration, their goal, their dream and their passion is so ahead of them.

And within their grasp. That they are doing steps to make it their reality not just a dream. It's inspiring, it really is. And is that what makes the dreamers act? Is that what spurs us on to do our best, to realise our passions? Because when I hear The Bear talk so animatedly about his 'stuff', when I hear the enthusiasm in his voice, see his eyes sparkle with the telling - it makes me want to jump up and shout "YES! That's exactly what you should do! Do it NOW!" And it also makes me want to get a cracker, stick it up my arse and do the same.

And I'm one of Life's Dreamers - and I love that I have one of Life's Passionates in MY life right now.... to give me that impetus to light that cracker. Obviously, it's not the only thing I like but that's for my musings at 1am not this blog.... *insert smilie here*

Mean People

I was going to post a Facebook status but for some reason, posting something serious and personal on that particular platform, does not sit well with me. But here, here is okay.

Beth Ditto said "I'm a great believer in karma, and the vengeance that it serves up to those who are deliberately mean is generally enough for me".

A quote that resonates so much, and has done for quite some time.

As a rule, I don't wish ill on anyone but....with that said, I probably would get some joy in certain people getting theirs. I can admit this as I'm not perfect. ;)  And I really don't wish ill/death/pestilence on a soul but some people, some people I just wish would get a bit of their actions dealt back at them. Maybe in the hope that they would become better people but mostly, because I think they suck and I'd like to see them fall a bit.

Actually, that's not particularly true, what I'd like is for people to be held accountable for their actions. There is no joy surely in hurting people? What kind of horrible human gets joy from wounding people with their words and actions? Why would you want to. I'd rather make people smile, I really would. For one, it makes me feel better knowing that I've given just one person a giggle, a laugh and maybe a positive life experience to take away with them. So, it's almost incomprehensible that it appears there are people out there who wish to hurt others so much with their actions and/or words.

However, with one person in mind, I can vow to them this: That when Karma or whatever it is comes and teaches you a whole big fat life lesson, we will be there to pick up the pieces you leave behind and make good all the shit you've made bad. It's only a matter of time, I know this. It's only a matter of time, maybe years but you will be found out and you will lose the one thing you are trying to keep.

If writing that makes me a bad person, see above, I am not perfect. I don't claim to be. I do maintain however, that I don't hate anyone and I certainly don't wish anyone dead or anything like that. I just wish people wouldn't be so damn mean.

Meh and double meh

Feel like a bit of a moose really. A big, lumbering, blind and dumb moose. 

Could be I'm being silly, could be I'm a bit sensitive at the moment and therefore things that didn't bother me, currently do. 

I'll get over it, I always do. 😔

Famiglia

When I was a little girl and my parents had to work - I used to stay with my Granny and then my aunt and my Nana and Papa during the holidays. They were times I look back at very fondly. That was the family network. Yes there was the extended family - like Auntie Rosie, who seemed sad (until later in life) but made the most awesome Marie biscuit sandwiches and Auntie Ruth who used to walk me to school and take me to church. They weren't even my aunties, they were my Nana's aunties just to clarify. And Uncle Jimmy, Auntie Amy and their fig trees (yuck! can't even think of that tree without shuddering).

Anyway, the point I'm attempting to make was that the family took care of it's own.

And the times I spent with them all were special but I want to talk about my aunt. She was supremely glamourous and beautiful and I worshipped the ground she walked on. She was funny/goofy and treated me like an equal. I KNEW I could ask her anything and it be 'totally cool'. My friends all wished they had an auntie like her.  And now I'm an adult, and she's such a constant in my life. Still glamourous and beautiful, still funny and goofy and still treats me like an equal. I used to love going places with her and that's still not changed. And I think that's exactly the reason I was so over emotional last week. That in all the years, we can still get in a car (or not) and have such a good laugh and talk and talk. That we can talk honestly about my mom and I know that we both love her dearly but are frustrated at the same time - not many get that. That our family was full of women who were infuriating, special, neurotic and yet were ours. And now we're the last ones standing, so much has changed yet our relationship hasn't.

Am I gushing? I'm not sure. I just know I miss her completely. That when I'm floundering (it seems) with a teenager in the house, she knows just what approach to take, what words to say. And you know, it's clear my mom looked to Catty in the same way when dealing with me.

It's weird, I don't look at her like I see my other aunts. We are closer than that. I just wish we were closer physically. I really do hate distance. I hate being so far away from people who I want to be nearer to. My LaniMom,  Catty, LBW et al. The world is a small place but 12 hour flights should rather be 12 hour drives at maximum.

When I rule the world.....

.