My mom rose before the sunrise and was louder than the cock that crowed two hours after she had already woken the entire house hold up with her shuffling around the house and making porridge in the kitchen. It did not help that she had a limp and a special way of always tripping on things followed by a loud scream of shock, from herself to herself for all of us to hear. You would not dare make a comment on her scream or her fall, if you knew what was good for you. She had a way of making sure she was the reason you wore a smile for the rest of the day or had a good-night sleep but her wrath was nothing you would want to know. It stung like a bee. She was just loud like that and a sweet heart as well.
I remember locking myself in the bathroom of my apartment on the first Christmas I spent without her. I cried on the floor, head on the toilet seat. No. I was not thinking of drowning myself, but had to have a private cry. I don’t know what it is about my daughter Tendai, she has a way of sniffing out my emotions and my feelings and is a private investigator of sorts. She may not always know what to say but she is somehow a constant shadow and hug provider. I could hear her little fingers tapping on the door and when all else fails her she will keep her “I love you mommy" record on repeat mode. And that only made me sit on that fluffy pink bathroom carpet some more and cried till the tears met up with the snarlies above my upper lip and together made their salty way into my mouth through the side entrance.
The cry changed and no longer became about me missing my mother and all that she meant to me but on how selfish I was being for not appreciating and embracing the load of love that I had around me with Thapelo and Tendai. Thapelo is best with forehead kisses and smiles in your face. Just to make sure that you don’t miss his silent "I care and I feel you. I don’t understand the depth of your emotions but I am here and I love you."
I woke up bright and early this morning, with so much purpose. The day before Christmas and wow my wreath is up and all the lights twinkling, just the way I like them too. I got up with so much ooomph and I realised that sometimes it’s not what you have or don’t have but whom you have in your life that counts. Yes the goodbyes are sad. They are hurtful but the hello’s have so much potential and opportunity that missing those could mean messing up your today and perhaps your future.
After my father left his cancer ridden body. I could not cry. No matter the situation. I could frown, I could scream, I could shout, I could smile brighter than before and I could laugh really loud but I could not cry. I was numb. Emotionless and I remember looking through my Donna Karen of New York sunglasses at the casket going down the grave with my dads head facing the west and I knew that the wrap and curtain call of both my parents’ life meant a new beginning for me. One that had a lot of potential and one that means a whole new book. It was no longer a chapter of my life. It was an entire foundation.
My parent’s instantaneously became individuals in my life. These were the two people in my life that were a constant team. Together. Whether in a fight or not. I spoke to one and knowing that it would not be long before the other knew. Good or bad. They were a unit. They painted the canvas in which I was to live my life. They chose the background. They chose the paint. The setting. The frame of the picture. I now had to come out of the painting and enlarge myself.
I think more than any of their other kids, I took to these two people as my friends. My siblings would sometimes be embarrassed - well they should not be reading my stuff anyway. I know I did not copyright the letters but still, my dad and I exposed our mind-space and feelings in lengthy letters. With mom it was behind closed doors. I mean everything. The conversation would start a similar way that my daughter starts a conversation with me, way too often for my liking. It goes something like "Mommy do you promise you will still love me and won’t shout at me..." and I not like my mother who would always say "Yes". I am an "it depends" type of a mother.
These conversations would teach me that no matter what the situation, no matter how dodge it was, no matter how my angel wings got clipped in my escapades of life so that I had no option but to allow my profile that looked like I was flying on a broom stick to be published. Embarrassing my family, their values and sometimes myself but I learnt that family is something you don’t choose and parenthood is the biggest calling of loving in spite of.
Loving is just that one thing that makes living for those that love you so important. I realised that I lived for my parents. Yes I moved out at 21. Infact, before that. And married young etc, in time for them to love me back after a divorce and help me raise my kids, including waking them up at 3am with tears in my eyes and a high temperature child. I never called the Doctor first. I called home in tears and the silly kids would laugh and smile as soon as I entered the house. Love cures.
I sit back and smile and sometimes miss the lengthy phone calls that always came via my office line just before 4pm. Instead of just asking me to come and pick him up from the office, he did not feel like driving he would start the conversation with "that man is not good for you" refereeing to a guy I was dating and then that would change too "I am old. You are lending a hand to my death. You are wasting the good-looks I gave you. Why don’t you and your sister have relationships?"...the conversation would end with me in tears and me speaking loudly asking if its about cows in his kraal or about me. He would pretend he did not hear me and carry on without a full stop but a whole lot of exclamation marks after his questions, that he did not bother to wait for answers for. I would eventually get my two cents worth after a hot ear that was now stuck for an hour . Did he bother to read the bible and see that HE who finds and not SHE who finds, finds a good thing and obtainath favour from the Lord. So I am the favour that needs to found. Maybe I just was not being found for goodness sake. No one has entered into a treasure hunt. Their bad. Not mine. Maybe that’s the problem. Dunno why everyone thinks I am too fussy. Do I look fussy? Of course not. Anyway an hour later would find us taking a slow drive together to Ntuzuma and me listening to the achievement of his recent court case. My dad started making sure on taking me out for a meal at a classy restuarant or calling me home for dinner were he would braai. Yes he always did that but now he was trying to paint a better picture on my view on men. We got closer after moms death. I suddenly became his baby in the sense of being a real 'daddy's girl' so much so that he felt he needed me by his side when he gave into death. He would make sure that I was on point on style. He liked buying and giving. He even bought my brother’s late wife’s Christmas clothes. Now that was just scwheet. Hope my future father in law spoils me. My Tata was a black Italian, and he knew that I laaaaav style and yet wanted nothing to do with a temper and tantrum throwing man. Gentle and peaceful, loving and kind was my type. Hence I did not know why I did not change my glass lenses to see through a man who wore sneakers and shorts during the week or one who chose to wear his reading glasses in the sun as a man with potential capabilities of being a decent man for me. Alas! My fashion-police citizen arrest portfolio always seemed to get the better of me.
Subconsciously and more consciously when I lost my parents, I realised that the dreams I had, my aspirations were all a game plan to bless them, to make them look good and feel good.
They were the sun rays that kept my purpose warm. Last Christmas was the second one without my mom and I had my Tata in hospital. This year, without both of them I am at peace and find that my family tradition, has died and a new lifestyle has begun. I am now responsible for being a great crafts-woman for my children and I need to guide them to be independent thinkers and Presidents of their world.
My friends keep on threatening me that my kids will not leave in ten years as in move out the house. This of course is my grand plan. I will be 42 and HALLLO but my life will have just begun. So practically speaking aside from my last five year plans which was way too ambitious, my next 8 plan is about trying to find a plan.
Let the games begin! Sakikiza isalukazi sathi llilililili kwakuhle kwethu...when I get married...the song "isencane lengane, ubani obethi ayishadhe", will still be the first track. Did I add that, a Zulu speaking friend is a must in order to translate most of my closing lines on this blog.?
No comments:
Post a Comment