Do you know what it’s like to anticipate an experience for years, to relive it in your mind a thousand times. I imagined seeing Jannatul Baqi where my father lies a thousand times….thinking about my emotions. Finding closure….
Yet being there …smelling the Arabian air..feeling the soil under my feet, was nothing like I imagined.
As my flight touched down, …I cried like never before. I cried knowing that these were my father’s last sights. I cried knowing it was the last time my parents were together. They were happy.
I cried because this is where it all began. I cried because I knew that this was where it all ended.
As we approached the city, my heart ached and sang all at the same time.
I was here…how long I waited.
I was finally here.
I haven’t written for such a long time. I’ve told myself that it’s because I feel healed. There is no longer that gaping hole,an invisible crevice deep in my soul.
I feel whole again after a very long time. And writing down my thoughts,my fears,my anguish was the therapy I needed to get to where I am now.
I miss the lives lost almost daily,but there is serenity in my thoughts.
The years have passed,and in the process of healing I have found myself again.
I wish there was a pill that could be taken for grief. How many people go through life and never find themselves again?
Take one pill every morning after experiencing great anguish.
Can be taken daily until relief is felt.
This pill will help you through the stages of grief. It will make you whole again.
The alternative is going through the stages of grief naturally. Listening to how time will heal. Knowing that in time we just mask our pain better.
It is a pain I will not wish on my worst enemy.
My beautiful daughter turned 5 today. I’m so amazed at the bright confident little girl she’s become.
As we lay in bed last night talking about the excitement of the day to come. I couldn’t but help think about my mum.
It’s been 2 yrs…she had turned 3 just after granny had passed. So much has changed, so much has transpired.
On her own she says to me that she misses granny.As we spoke I realized that her memories are fading…
She will have a few recollections of her time with gran….but it’s all fading.
How many days has it been…too many?
The days get better, I cope so well and then all of a sudden it all comes falling down.
And so slowly we start building the normality again.
Brick by brick, tear by tear.
I sit and wonder what the trigger was, what brought all this anguish back?
Does it matter.
The pain’s still there.
The wound has healed a bit, but like any scab if you scratch too deep, it bleeds.
Mr Mandela has spent almost 19 nights in hospital. He is 94 yrs of age. He has been suffering with recurrent lung infections. With his history of TB and working on the the lime quarries at Robben Island it really does not look good.
We all wish that he could live forever,he is a Giant amongst man. There are those who are indifferent to him. Those that still call him a terrorist.
Do not forget that this man was incarcerated for 27 yrs fighting for a democratic South Africa. Yet he walked out of prison forgiving his captors. He steered a country on the brink of a civil war to peace. Without him there would be no democracy.
I do agree that the current government has maybe lost its way. And I only pray that one day soon they will learn from their mistakes. But I am tired and fed up hearing previously advantaged people tell me that I was better off during the years of apartheid.
Get the hell of your high horses and shut up. Yes SA has problems,and yes they are huge. But don’t for one moment tell me I was better off without a vote. Without the right to a good equal education. Without the right to walk on the best beaches or visit certain restaurants. Without the right to live where I pleased.
Even though I may have lost all hope in the current ANC I will not forget that they helped me get my vote.
And in these last days of our Madiba’s life I wish him peace. I wish his family strength. As it could not have been easy to share this great man with the nation and the world. I just wish they can be afforded the privacy to spend these days with their father alone,as watching your loved one slip away must be the hardest most painful experience anyone could endure.
There are supposed to be five steps of grief…I think.
Denial,anger and I really don’t know what comes in between and then lastly acceptance.
I don’t know where I am?
I’m not in denial,I have accepted that she has died.
Besides the steps that I’ve forgotten all I’m left with is anger. And yes I do have this bubbling rage that surfaces every so often. I don’t know if its because of her illness. Or how she died.
Exhaustion or boredom….maybe even frustration. But I do know that I am getting there.
I want to move on.
I want to move on,but how do I do that?
When the reminders are so constant.
How do I move on?