For my beloved children

Let me tell you just a few things I've learned about life.


I've learned that no matter how much I care,

some people just don't care back.
I've learned that two people can look at the same thing
and see something totally different.
I've learned that your life can be changed in a matter of hours
by people who don't even know you.
I've learned that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others.
Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
I've learned that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry,
but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.
I've learned that we are responsible for what we do,
no matter how we feel.
I've learned that we are responsible for what we feel,
no matter what others do.
I've learned that either you control your attitude,
or it controls you.
I've learned that true friends accept you as you are,
but that would never stop you from trying to change.
I've learned that the smallest secret can change your life forever.

I've learned that you should always tell your loved ones loving words.


Just one more thing -
I love you more than life itself.

♫

Sitting on Oupa's lap on the porch of his house in Windsorton.

♫

All dressed up and beautified for Oupa.

♥

Oupa always brought a brown paper bag full of Sunrise toffees,
sticky and gooey and sweet
and we would eat it
sugary sweet saliva
dripping
from our lips
like honey

♫


©

We can only speak of the things we carried with us,
and the things we took away.

♥

Beaufort West

I was watching a documentary about Gert Vlok Nel, born and bred in Beaufort West, South Africa.

The ancient San people had a name for the area where Beaufort West is situated; they called it "Karoo" in their language, meaning "land of great thirst".

They could not have described this vast, arid, stark, unforgiving and yet so awesome and dazzlingly beautiful landscape more aptly.

Many years ago I spent a long, hot summer in Beaufort West. As part of my studies I had to do some practical work in an orphanage, and I chose to go to the little village of Beaufort West.

The Karoo is more of a feeling, an experience than a geographical place. Early morning I walked to the orphanage which was situated on the outskirts of the village; walking in a dirt road, the sun already hot and dry and the air smelling like dust and sunshine; the shadows long in front of me. Late afternoon I walked back to where I lodged, the shadows long behind me, blue, blue sky and never a cloud, only the blindingly hot African sun.

And it was eerily quiet, except for the sounds of crickets and the odd, brave bird calling in the heat. I did not hear anything, but in the stillness I also heard everything. The voices of history echoing from the rocks and from the dirt and the dust, millions of years of people and forgotten places, the sun blazing down and blood buzzing in my ears.

Ek het gedink ek het dit alles al vergeet ...


©

Days of ghosts and old roses

Oupa lived in an old creaking house on the banks of the Vaal River.

The house was very big and very old with many rooms where ghosts lived a secret life. They only came out at night, and only when I was there because Oupa said he
never saw or heard them.


My mom grew up in this house. Oupa spoiled her, I think he felt sorry for her because her mother died when she was very young. She used to tell me stories of all the times Oupa took her shopping in Kimberley, buying her the most beautiful clothes. Silk and satin and lace long evening dresses, linen suits and classy high heeled shoes and gorgeous hats and gloves.


My favorite room was the pink room where mom used to sleep. It had dusky floral wallpaper and smelled like old roses and dust. In the corner was a dressing table with a huge round mirror. I would dance around in front of it, pretending to be Alice, dreaming of the White Rabbit and Cheshire Cat.

I loved going there and staying over as my cousins lived there as well. I think Oupa did not know how to keep us busy as it had been a long time since my mom was a little girl of about 5.

We used to play in the cemetery on all the old graves. We played hide and seek and also replaced the dead flowers in the flowerpots with fresh tree branches.

At night Oupa went to bed early, so we had to go to our room and be quiet. Mara, Elsa and I shared a bed. Oupa left a candle burning for us and we would watch the flickering shadows on the wall and in the mirror. We would see the ghosts coming out and dancing around in the room, shadowy transparent figures floating over us and out of the door.

We hugged each other in the dark, too afraid to move or to make a sound until we fell asleep in each others arms.

♫

©

Childhood dreams

Where I grew up on a remote farm in South Africa,
I often would look out the window and wished to go somewhere far,
somewhere exciting.

Little did I know then just how far I would go,
how often I would miss the simplicity of my childhood days

and how exciting my life would be