In Awareness of Keeping the Faith

A profound weariness has settled upon me, its grip unwavering. Usually, it passes like an African summer storm.

I understand the reasons behind this profound state. The loss of my mother has drained every bit of my being. Strangely, I didn’t experience such intensity when my father and brother passed away. I was too preoccupied with the daily toils and tribulations that consumed my life. But now, defeated by this invisible and diabolical illness that forced me to retire from teaching, I find myself trapped in a perpetual state of listlessness, doing mundane tasks, and managing the small “thing” I call a home business. It does little to distract my mind and heart from the void left by my mother’s absence.

Since her passing, I’ve assumed an emotionally stooped posture as I await the arrival of the next possible tragedy. It will undoubtedly engulf me. Exactly one month after her death, my mother’s eldest brother passed away. The last of the de Wet siblings are now gone. With their passing, my mother at 79 and her brother at 82, I find myself standing at the precipice, questioning whether I am on the cusp of entering the last decade of my own life. I’m turning 58 this year. Surely, I have more time? Why then does even the notion of a decade feel presumptuous? Is it the pain that intermittently surges through my body, often rendering me immobilized on the floor, gazing at the ceiling? Every time I lie down, grounded but not dead, I wonder if I can endure another week. This and the weight of the potential loss of anyone else dear to me hang heavy in the air, casting an unnecessary shadow over my days.

And then wonders upon wonders! Amidst the darkness, light has a way of filtering through.

Yesterday, a peculiar sensation of contentment washed over me, causing me to pause. My dear friend, Joekie, who is in the Cape had planned to meet me this Saturday, but unforeseen obstacles thwarted our meeting, leaving me disappointed. So, the unexpected feeling of contentment was a surprise.

It became a lesson. Each encounter, missed or realized, carries significance, serving a purpose in our personal growth. Through disappointment, I found comfort in knowing that time and unforeseen circumstances are out of our control.

Can there be any regret if we aren’t the masters of our own destiny?

The idea of having complete control over any event is ludicrous, a fleeting illusion. After all, I’m merely a traveller on a short and unpredictable journey. Circumstances will mould me, but no matter how far I’ve come, I’ve never been in control. I’ve walked in faith to get here! So, I need to continue walking in faith, even when the burden I carry is too heavy to bear.

And this is it! This is what brought the moment of calm (contentment) yesterday. Faith! Over the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking about faith and strength and endurance. Psalm 23 and the words of Paul in Philippians have carried me through thus far. Paul’s words, “For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength”, often made me wonder: With the right amount of faith, can I truly overcome the hardship of death?

Right now, the depth of my emotions feels immeasurable. It’s as if layers upon layers of feelings have accumulated, forming a towering mountain of rubble that needs to be cleared away. How do I even begin the daunting task of calming the emotional turmoil?

Oh, I try to be positive. I constantly reassure myself, saying, “Once I’m rested, the mountain of emotions will become nothing more than a small heap, quite easy to clear up on my own.” But alas! Reality stands firm, defiantly challenging the optimism within me. What is rest? Time has long been hailed as a great healer, capable of mending many wounds and soothing the pain of various hardships. Yet, death is an abyss so deep and unfathomable that the passage of time offers little comfort. It gets easier, “they say”, but honestly, we continue to live with the void, don’t we?

I believe Paul understood that no one in his world could grant him the strength to endure or conquer the challenges he faced. The support of others came in the form of empathy and encouraging words. But it was through faith alone that he found his strength. This realization holds true for me as well, irrespective of who I am or the people I have in my life. While it is true that faith is a deeply personal and individual journey, I am reminded that I am not truly an island unto myself. I’ve been fortunate to have friends like Marcelle, Daryl, Karen, Joekie, Mariëtte, and even my cousin Madeleine, who have extended their support and understanding. They have reached out because they too have experienced the profound pain of losing a mother. Even Ginger, a family friend, has reached out to me. He understands the sorrow of losing a loved one, as he recently experienced the loss of his wife. My sister shares my loss and is my closest friend. I know I can lean on her for support at any hour of the day. And I am grateful for this bond. I also have the support of a loving husband, and two adult children, who understand me better than I sometimes understand myself. Where would I be without them? Their steadfast love fills me with a deep sense of gratitude, which seeps through every fiber of my being. Love and faith carry me through.

The reality though is this: I can have all the love in the world, but if my faith wavers or diminishes, no matter what others do or say, I will sink into the depths of life’s turbulent waters. I will drown! And so, it is through the awareness of “keeping the faith” that I will continue to be strengthened to endure.

Mother Dearest, How?

The voice of truth, the call arrived,

A shock indeed, my soul contrived;

Though hindsight’s gaze has gently shown,

My inner self had aways known:

It couldn’t be anything less, my Dear –

For in the hours before dawn,

I witnessed your strength and breath drawn,

As you fought against Torment’s chains –

There was no solace for its strains …

And I, frozen in the face of Fear,

Stood helplessly, fraught with despair,

For I did not know how to take care

Of Frailty; Oh, that fateful day! 

Death snuck in and took him away –

Death isn’t welcome here again!

Yet, watching you gasp for new air,

Your struggle became mine to bear;

You fought to swallow a sip so small, 

Your thirst a relentless dry call

To be set free, free from the pain.

If I could breathe for you …

If I could bear your pain for you …

There is no healing …

How will I live without you?

Oh, Mother Dearest,

How?

The Profound Loss of My Mother

Life has a way of unfolding in unexpected and unpredictable ways, throwing us into a whirlwind of emotions and challenges.

My beloved brother passed away in October 2022, and I haven't fully come to terms with the loss. And now, adding to the weight of this grief, I have recently lost my mother.

It all began in the latter months of 2022 when my mother, who was living with my sister, started showing signs of fatigue and disinterest in her daily activities. Her energy waned, and she increasingly spent her days sitting and doing nothing. She complained about pain in her hips, shoulders, and various parts of her body; it was especially bad in the mornings. She also battled to sleep through each night because of the pain.

Because I suffer from Peripheral Neuropathy and we've shared the same symptoms for years, I wondered if it was the cause of all her pain.

Her condition continued to worsen. Late January 2023, she experienced new symptoms. Her right eyelid began to droop and she soon lost a great percentage of vision in the eye. The left side of her body was weaker than the right side, and her pain became worse!

We took her to a doctor, keeping things like a stroke or Parkinson's in mind. We were desperately hoping for answers that would bring clarity and a path to healing. The doctor examined her and said it was the general aches and pains associated with old age and arthritis, and her eye problem was sinus-related. The medication didn't help and so we took her to another doctor for a second opinion. He made the same assessment and gave similar treatment.

Over the weeks of March, concern and unease settled within us as my sister and I watched her health decline. Simple tasks like walking became arduous for her. She walked with a walking frame from her room to the lounge and back again but spent most of her days in bed. She ate less and started losing a considerable amount of weight.

By mid-April, she was frail. We had a nurse come in twice a week to help us look after her. My mother lost control over her bladder and bowel, and her left forearm and hand would swell for a day or two, recover, and then swell again. In a matter of weeks, her ability to move had declined to the extent that she was confined to her bed. She started hallucinating, was constantly thirsty, and had difficulty swallowing.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, we contacted Dr. Appelgryn who made a late evening house call on 16 May. The next morning, as requested by the doctor, my sister and her husband took my mother to his emergency room for monitoring. My mother had an irregular heartbeat, low blood sugar, and high blood pressure. Dr. Appelgryn diagnosed her with what he believed was lung cancer that had metastasized to her brain. He also believed that there was a tumor behind her right eye.

He referred her to Somerset Hospital in Green Point, where she was admitted on 18 May. X-rays were taken the same day revealing a mass in her chest. She stayed in the hospital for further evaluation and on May 23, a CT scan was performed. We were then given the devastating news that she had stage 4 lung cancer that had metastasized to her liver and brain. Even though we had heard the initial diagnosis from Dr. Appelgryn, we were left in a state of shock when it was confirmed.

She was transferred to the Vredenburg Hospital for palliative care on Thursday, 25 May. We knew our time with her was painfully limited, but we didn't know that it would be so short. Despite her incredible bravery and determination to fight, her weakened body could not withstand the aggressive progression of the disease, and she passed away on 27 May.

As I reflect upon this heart-wrenching journey, it serves as a powerful reminder of the fleeting nature of time and the importance of looking after our health. My mother was one of the healthiest women I know. She never went to doctors for flu or any general ailments and never had any operations. She was confident in her health and never went for any check-ups.

While the pain of loss is profound and may endure, I find solace in the knowledge that she is finally free from the suffering that plagued her for so many months. I hold on to all our cherished memories to give me strength.

It was my mother who inspired me to be a go-getter. She also inspired me to start writing novels in 2003. Her unwavering love will continue to inspire me to embrace life fully.

If ...

If you lose your confidence when all about you look confident, and you blame your incompetence on them …  If you constantly worry that the things you make and the things you do aren’t good enough, and you compare yourself to others … If people seem to have it better, or bigger, or more complete than you, and you feel you don’t measure up to them … then you need to STOP and consider:

People exist.

People have the right to breathe, think, speak, work, take action, make choices, embrace imperfections, form judgments, question, provide answers, experience both success and failure, learn (or not learn) from mistakes, hold beliefs, harbour fears, face challenges, and truly LIVE a life that is based on their unique upbringing and experiences. Each person has the right to decide whether to pursue personal growth or remain as they are.

There will always be someone who attracts or repels your attention! You don't have to like everyone and not everyone is obliged to like you in return! Each person has the right to express their individuality. When you realise that you are you, and other people are not you, a light switches on in your mind. You will always understand that there isn't a fine line of difference between you and someone else, but a profound chasm! The distinction between people is vast and profound. The fact that people are unique should be admired and embraced, rather than disregarded or rejected.

The way forward is shaped by your perspective of the world, the people within it, and most importantly, your perception of yourself.

Work exists.

There will always be something to do! If you consciously choose to pursue your passions, your days will not feel like eternal hell! Through the meaningful work you do, you'll meet new people and experience new things. There will always be something to learn! You will learn valuable lessons from every person you meet and every experience you have, regardless of their nature, and these lessons will catalyze personal growth.

The way forward lies in your perception of work, people, and the learning process.

Through the eyes of negativity, everything is shrouded in gray. You tend to focus on the shadows instead of the light. You'll see your daily struggles and forget that these struggles are an integral part of life – only the dead have no problems.

Confidence is key!

Confidence will let you move more easily through each day. Confidence will let you believe in yourself; you will stop fearing the judgment and opinions of people. Confidence will alleviate needless worry and guide you towards better paths, and empower you to influence those around you to follow more constructive paths.

Confidence helps you to make better decisions. This is important because your current choices are influenced by ingrained habits. If you don't have a confident perspective of the world (your community) and all the people in it, you will always sink into the muck and mire of life. If you don't glean lessons from life with confidence so that you can grow and change, your habits will stay the same and you will continue to make the same choices and experience the same outcomes. 

The way forward is a winding path, that leads over hills and mountains, and through ditches and valleys. It's not an easy path, but it's a way forward. Never settle for a path that makes you walk in circles, devoid of progress.

If you can see yourself and your life through kaleidoscopic lenses, you have already achieved profound success.

Be enlightened or be quiet!

Like many countries, South Africa has terrible heavy vehicle accidents on the highways and byways. You can’t miss the news headlines: At least 3 killed on N3 truck accident; Bloody start to weekend after six killed in truck crash on KZN’s R56; Deadly KZN N3 pile-up … Other headlines read, South Africa: Deadly Attacks on Foreign Truck Drivers; ATDF Reveals That Truck Driver Who Caused An Accident Is A Foreigner; SA’s Operation Dudula targets foreign national drivers and companies that hire them after deadly crash kills 19 school kids …

Let us look at a few perceptions!

• All truck drivers are men.

Fact: Women also drive trucks – a small percentage that’s growing.

• Truck drivers are Black.

Fact: White people also drive trucks.

• Truck drivers are mostly foreigners.

Fact: There is a need for more truck drivers in South Africa. The question to ask is: Why?

• Truck drivers don’t care about the safety of other drivers.

Opinion: Do drivers, in general, care about the safety of others on the roads?

• Truck drivers drive recklessly.

Opinion: Who doesn’t? Take a day off, sit in your car in a parking lot at any mall, and observe!

Here’s a short analogy! 

Many people don’t trust truck drivers behind the wheel. They expect an accident to happen! To go a few steps further: When there’s a truck accident, it’s always the truck driver’s fault. The truck driver is guilty of the deaths of everyone in the accident. The children of truck drivers are also to blame for the accident and all the deaths and cannot be trusted behind the wheel of any vehicle because they have the same reckless genes as their truck-driving parents. 

Comparatively speaking, many Black people don’t trust White people. They expect them to behave in a racist way. To go a few steps further: when there is a White person in the room, it is always the White person’s fault when there’s an incident. Never mind whether the cashier was rude or the service was poor. The White person is not allowed to get angry. A Black woman can throw tantrums in shops, but not a White woman. The White person is guilty of whatever (always) because of Apartheid. The children of White people are also racist and to blame for Apartheid. And so, hate and division continue because of Apartheid.

Many will say: If there is any hate and division in South Africa, it’s caused by political parties that claim to stand for a united democratic country but show bias toward the White people of 2022! Do you agree? Well, someone needs to be blamed. Rather than taking ownership of our own bias, let us point fingers. Read that again if you must.

Then along comes Charlize Theron or Their-In to fuel the South African fires of disparagement. Who? Charlize T’ron ... the pretty, tall, South African American White actress who has disowned her heritage.

Ironically, the thoughtless actions of companies and people like Dis-Chem and Charlize Theron bring people together! Did you see who stood up to Charlize? Imagine what this country could become if we all stood together without bias.

I won’t waste my time with bias or Charlize’s choice of 44 and her impression that the language is useless. We all know Charlize’s words are not based on facts. But I would like to spend a few minutes saying something about Afrikaans being a bastardized language. No one seems to have given attention to this statement by Charlize Theron! Is this perhaps because people believe it to be true. 

Yes! Afrikaans is an amalgam of Dutch, French, German, English, and the four Khoekhoe-branch languages, Nama, Kora, Cape Khoekhoe, and Eastern Khoekhoe. Regarding the latter four, you will find words in Afrikaans that originate from these languages. For example, there are plants with names originating from Nama, like the noenieboom, gharrabessie, and gonnabos.

Now, let us focus our attention with particular pride on how languages evolve. In the same way plants adapt, all languages adjust to environmental conditions over time and engage in slow and regular change processes. We think of the Romance languages derived from Latin (Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, etc.), the Germanic languages and their offshoots, and the derivations of Arabic, Chinese, Indian, and languages of Asia, Micronesia, Africa, and the Americas. Whenever dialects and languages are cut off geographically, they will form entirely new languages. A good example is a unique Afrikaans dialect in Patagonia, Argentina. 

Of course, we may be influenced to look at ourselves as bastard people with a bastard language, as Breyton Breytenbach described us, rather than a nation and language that has evolved (come into existence through the processes of change). If we believe this bastard business, we are nothing better than Charlize Theron, and we will continue to be grossly disrespectful of who we are.

Should we ever decide to look at the Afrikaner’s evolution, let us do the same regarding the modern Xhosa, Tswana, Pedi, and every other nationality of the rainbow nation. Let us sit down and scrutinize the migration, dispersion, fission, wars, and settlements of South Africa’s people and carefully study the tremendous impact of Western culture on traditional African society. Let us be enlightened!

When enlightened, we can sit down, open our mouths, and speak! Until then, lest we don’t want to look like idiots, we should be quiet about the Afrikaans language!

How I started earning pennies!

Yes! The title is correct. I started my own business and now earn pennies! And every penny pays something.

What led to this initiative?

I retired at the end of February (ill health) and lost two-thirds of my monthly income. So, I needed to find a way to earn more money. At age 57, I’m not keen to educate myself to do things – especially things I’ve never done before. Regardless, I had little choice! 

Was I motivated?

Earning is a product of learning! As a teacher, I did this for more than 30 years. I knew that starting my own business would put me a few (plus/minus a thousand) lessons away from earning money.

My field of expertise

I can teach! I can also write stories and poems. But I don’t have a creative (entrepreneurial) brain to invent or discover or elonmusk my way to great fortunes. Hence, the pennies!

How did I do it?

Phase 1

I created a website! I had an idea and put everything into the website. Of course, it took me more time to delete than create, but I eventually did it! 

Phase 2

Once the website was ready and available, I used social media (okay, more specifically, Facebook) to attract clients. 

The outcome

Within the first month, I made R250. My income increased to R750 by the end of my second month, and in my third month, I made R1550.

I know what you’re thinking! It would be better if each figure had more zeros at the end. I suppose you could look at it from that angle, but I see it more positively. Initially, I had nothing! Three months later, I had more than zero in my pocket. I’m proud of what I have achieved. Going from zero to hero (R1550) in 90 days was a fantastic accomplishment!

What did I experience?

We make choices every day. We can sit back, complain, blame the world for our situation, or get up and find a way to change it! Doing something is better than doing nothing. In my case, the word “try” didn’t exist. It’s a word people use when they: i) expect things to go wrong, ii) plan to fail, and iii) rely on excuses rather than effort. I never once said I would try to make a website, find clients, and earn money! From the word go, there was no option. I was set on making a website, finding clients, and earning money! And none of it was a picnic! The website was a two-month/60-day nightmare, and finding clients was a humbling experience because there are rude people out there. In the end, earning money, even if only pennies, was a well-deserved reward! 

Is there a lesson to be taught?

There’s nothing wrong with working for a living!

 

Stillness, but I’m still breathing!

It has been several months of stillness, but I’m still breathing. I may not have written about my experience living on the West Coast of South Africa, but I continue to live my purpose: to live my life to the best of my ability and to do good. 

If you’ve read my blog, you’ll know moving for me is a very traumatic experience. I don’t like change, and I don’t like the unknown. The fear has always been about losing what I have. An old saying fuels this fear: You know what you have but don’t know what you’ll get. Of course, I’ve moved many times, and I still believe the worst move ever was from Bulawayo to Witbank in 1980. This does not make my most recent move seem less traumatic. Trauma is trauma. It wasn’t easy to leave the bushveld in Limpopo after living there for over 21 years. I was leaving behind so many memories and close friends. What made the move harder was the fact that I was already traumatised. I was going through two stages of loss: the loss of my health and career and the double loss of my brother (death) and mother (she moved away). 

My desire to move to the West Coast started when I stopped teaching on 7 October 2020. During the time I was waiting for my retirement to take effect, I mostly stayed at home. There were a few occasions when I went out for tea with a dear friend, had my hair and nails done, or visited various doctors and therapists, which was required for the ill-health retirement application. I also cleaned the house, removing everything I didn’t want anymore. I was experiencing the same stages one goes through when dealing with grief: shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger, depression and loneliness, adjustment, reconstruction, and acceptance and hope.

I was still trying to cope with my newly diagnosed illness and the end of my career when my brother died on 25 October 2021. Both my mother and brother were living with me at the time. My mother moved in November to live with my sister on the West Coast. It was a united decision that she move away from the place of trauma. With my brother and mother gone, the house was too big, and the emptiness made me more determined to move. So, I started packing in December. I wrote the following poem about my mother’s move to help me cope at the time:
 
Parting with Mother (76)
 
Feet follow swiftly ghost trails of habit
To stand at Mother’s closed door
With news of something insignificant –
But she’s not there anymore.
 
A seven-year rhythm was established
For a heart wanting to share;
I’m left alone to ponder loss again
And left in total despair.
 
I quietly question life’s teachings and
Reflect on what’s left behind;
I consider the paths ahead of me
And the lessons undefined.
 
Moving forward with courage overwhelms –
The school of life has taught this once before; 
I’m shaped and fashioned to wait for the day
To walk again through her door.

At the end of February 2022, we finally moved, and we’ve been on the West Coast for six months.

Why haven’t I written about my life on the West Coast? After all, the move has done me well, and I live in a beautiful part of the country. Simply put, I haven’t been writing because all the trauma has had me hiding from and fearing many things. As a result of my illness and death in the family, I have become more aware of my mortality, and now that I’m here, I’m trying to keep my health a priority. I’m taking beach walks and resting. This helps in many ways to keep the ghosts of the past from staying too long to haunt me and gnaw away at my sanity, especially when I move through the stage of denial. I’ve stopped trying to figure out where my health went wrong because I’m focusing on acceptance. My illness is hereditary. Nothing I could change in the past would have prevented the illness and saved my health. Of course, it’s not only the stage of denial that repeats. The other stages of grief for loss are all cycles of my life, and each stage can last a while or pass quickly. Still … the healing has begun. Everything is new and fresh and makes it easier for me to let go and move forward. I’m processing, processing, processing. And I’m getting there.

The sand of my mind-dunes is shifting every day! I’m learning to keep the doors closed that I’ve already closed. I’m learning to stop rewriting the chapters of the past that have already been written. The stillness will probably continue for a while because I have no desire to blog or write another novel. And today, I just needed to share what is going on in my life.