Lockdown day #... I’m not sure.

This Easter was one of the strangest I have ever experienced - no Good Friday reflections at church; no Easter Sunday celebrations at church, no family lunches, no chocolate egg-giving to friends. Yet, our online service on Sunday morning was memorable for the worship.

This lockdown weekend has been difficult in other ways though. While we’re in a sort of school routine, the days are manageable. Having a routine helps. But the 4-day Easter weekend was madness. It was slothful, and miserable, and the kids annoyed each other (and us) interminably. The worst part was being unable to send them down the road to play with friends, or out to cycle on their bikes. I realized afresh there’s nowhere to go for a bit of silence.

So I was really looking forward to today - back to school, back to a semblance of routine, back to a measure of normality without the annoyance of being in each other’s space all the time.

Because I’d set my students tests, I knew I didn’t have to be online this morning, so I got a few chores done (laundry, cleaning bathrooms, vacuuming... the usual). I also started painting the gate that I’ve been meaning to paint for months.

And then everything went to hell in a hand basket. I don’t really want to talk about it right now - still too fresh, too painful - suffice to say that no-one’s died or had to go to hospital. Things would have been much better if I wasn’t in lockdown, and I’d been in a position to get in my car to go and visit. Lockdown is saving lives, but today I really didn’t care about that. I really didn’t give a toss - I could only see how it made a difficult situation horrendous.

My eyes are swollen and sore from crying. My heart is broken and grieving. My only prayer today has been “Abba! Daddy!” I couldn’t even pray for myself, or the situation. I feel utterly useless and powerless. I just want this day to be over, and for tomorrow to be a new day, with fresh possibilities and fresh hope. Even reading the Word brought me no comfort today. The comfort I’ve received today has been from my wonderful husband, from a few friends, from other Christians who have (once again) held me up in prayer when I am unable to pray for myself, who have listened as I’ve cried, who have spoken truth and hope into my bleak reality. This is what community looks like, and true community is able to transcend lockdown.

So if you’re in a dark space, a dry space, a painful space, I want you to know that you’re not alone. Today, I’ve been there. But more than that, I want you to know that if you reach out, you will find community. You can have real connections with others, even in times like these. And if you feel like there’s no-one you can call, no-one who would be willing to listen, no-one who could understand, then I want you to know that’s not true, because if you have no-one else then I will be that person for you. 

We all have dark days, hard days, difficult days. But we don’t ever have to walk through them alone. “Even though I walk through the dark valley of death, because you are with me, I fear no harm.” Ps 23 vs 4. Though Easter was a few days ago, its message resonates every day. Though it may feel like it’s Friday, Sunday’s acoming! 

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain...

I’m sitting on my stoep (porch) listening to the rain falling through the sail cloth onto our outdoor table. In the distance I can hear car tyres whoosing on the main road that runs past our house. Ignoring the “why are there are cars moving out there?”, it’s a lovely sound. I love hearing the different sounds of water. I have my glass of sherry-replacement, and my novel, and I’ve just had a skype call with my step-dad. I can smell the smokey braai, as the left-over ashes are dampened - reminds me of camping and good times with friends gathered around a fire. All is right with the world.

(Oh dear - my peace has just been disturbed by the neighbour choosing to watch vlogs with their window open.... )

Ok, so time for confessions.

All is not right with the world, which is why I am out here and not inside where it’s cozy. I think we have definitely all been in each other’s space long enough now. I resorted to taking the dogs out onto the field next door to us, via our back gate (which opens directly onto the field) and standing in the shelter of the wall - just to breathe some non-house air. The dogs were initially pleased, but as soon as they realized it was ... well, it wasn’t raining exactly... more like a heavy mist about 4m above the ground, falling gently down onto us... anyway! As soon as they realized it was wet, they lost their enthusiasm and wanted to come back in.

So now I’m out here, with doors and windows closed so I can’t hear what’s going on inside - at least, until they start killing each other. That I’m sure I’ll be able to hear. Glass isn’t that thick, after all.

What is is about the people we love, that they can drive us completely and utterly insane?

We had such a lovely anniversary day yesterday, bar one very unpleasant situation where several things came to a head all at the same time and ... I can’t even talk about it. I can’t handle my kids being hurt. “Sticks and stones” is the biggest lie. Words hurt the deepest, because they can’t be unsaid. Any one of the issues on their own would have been ok, but thrown them all into the mix at the same time, and it felt like an emotional nuclear bomb had gone off.

We fixed things, somewhat. A bit of emotional duct (gaffer) tape, and A bit of prayer, and we managed to At least mitigate the fall out. The rest of the day was fabulous though. It’s been a no-pressure weekend for me - one in which I refused to put any expectations on myself of what I should, or ought, or must do. The kids and I had a very silly water fight, which was just incredible (albeit cold!) I wish I could let myself relax and be silly more. I wish I could have more of those moments with my kids, laugh at myself a bit more. I know how much it means to them when I do.

(I must confess I watch some of the silly videos that people I know have created, and I just die for them. There’s silly, and then there’s just totally embarrassing.)

We also had the most wonderful anniversary dinner at ‘Homemade Sibling Fancy Restaurant’. The chefs and wait staff were just lovely, and G and I chatted about the various meals and events that have stuck in our memory over the past 22 years. What a trip down memory lane that was!

Today has been even better - I haven’t even gotten dressed today! I can’t remember the last time I did that, apart from being sick and so having to stay home in bed. We went to church (virtually, of course), chatted with the Clan (my husband doesn’t just have a family... he has a Clan), watched movies, I crocheted, we went on a virtual game drive to &Beyond Ngala (a private game reserve on the western boundary with Kruger) where we got to see lions RIGHT NEXT to the Landrover (I confess I was expecting one to stand up and klap the ranger one shot! Even he admitted afterwards he had been scared. Another ranger told me previously though that they are unlikely to do that as they see you as part of the vehicle - provided you don’t give them a reason to think different, they will leave you alone if you’re in the vehicle. I wasn’t sure I wanted to test that theory though.) and they also took us to some 8 day old hyaena cubs. These game rangers are incredibly knowledgeable, I must say, and showed us lots of smaller game, birds and insects we would NEVER have found on our own. Plus, the kids get to email them questions which they answer live. It’s FANTASTIC. You should join us tomorrow. They have drives at 5.30am and 3.30pm every day, and each drive is about 3hrs long. Find them at WildEarth on YouTube.

Now I get to sit out here and listen to the sounds of a wet world, while sipping on my (4th?) glass of some fortified wine or other. (And the noisy neighbour has gone to bed...) The crickets and frogs are out. The air is fresh. The post-rain dripping from the leaves is truly the most peaceful music. I think I may sleep out here tonight....I’ll just have to see what the mozzarellas situation it like in a bit.

And it occurs to me that the most important person in my life is someone I haven’t spoken to in a while. That in the midst of my selfish schloff weekend, I have made no time to talk to the one who made it all, the one who sustains it all, the one who gave it all, the one who left it all - for me. As peaceful as it is out here, this peace is transitory. As wonderful as it is out here, this is transitory. As soon as I open the door again, everything I’m running from will come flooding back - the frustration, the anger, the upset. There is only one in whom lasting peace can be found; there is only one in whom true wonder is found. And I’ve pretty much ignored him all weekend.

Time to fix things, I think.

Primary historical sources

One of the things the kids have been encouraged to do (not that they’re doing it...) is to keep a journal from this time. The given reason is that it will, in due course, be a primary historical source of this time.

For me, it’s more about having time and space to reflect; to process what I’m experiencing and feeling. While I love writing, I am a bit of a romantic, and I do love gestures. So last night I got the kids, hubby and myself to make this memento.

Once lockdown is down, I’ll be taking this “bread” (yes, it’s made from dough) to the framers to have it put in a box frame. It’ll go on our gallery wall with our other hand and footprints from various years. Not only is April 2020 the month of lockdown, which is pretty dramatic, but it’s also our anniversary. Tomorrow we will have been married for 22 years. 22. Twenty-two. TWENTY-TWOOOOOOO.

I remember walking down the aisle (and contrary to what everyone else says, it feels like a lifetime ago, not just yesterday) thinking to myself, “It’s not too late to back out. I don’t have to go through with this. Right up until the priest pops me the question, I can still say no.” I truly wasn’t sure we’d make it a year, let alone a lifetime together.

Sadly, my reality is that almost all of the marriages on my side of the family were broken - separation, divorce, remarriage, co-habitations, remarriage to their first spouse; marriage to their ex-spouse’s sibling... In fact, as we left the church, one of my parents’ friends handed me an envelope with R5000 cash in it with the words: ‘This is for when you get divorced.’

But here we are, many, many bumps and 22 years later. Still married, still happy, with beautiful amazing kids, stable jobs, a house mostly paid off. We are seriously adulting!

[At this point I was interrupted by #1 who was gobsmacked that I have a blog... and this despite the fact that after the previous time we had that conversation I showed her the blog I wrote for her while I was pregnant and for a while after she was born.... sigh!]

So it strikes me afresh that blogging is the creation of a primary source, that what I write will be preserved (barring any electromagnetic pulses or shifts in the earth’s polarity, or the demise of all electricity generation on the planet, or the need to migrate this blog to a different format) indefinitely.  Like getting married, that suddenly feels very overwhelming - that what I say here needs to be meaningful; it needs to count; it needs to share wisdom with the future generation.... I don’t feel particularly wise, or knowledgeable, or even humorous. I don’t feel controversial, or interesting at all. I’m just... well, me.

On a related topic, I was rather taken aback earlier today. Because of lockdown, I have been making a few (rather poor, I think) videos for my matrics. No picture-in-picture (otherwise known as the talking head), and about 20 mins long each (which if you know anything about making videos for social media, is WAAAAY too long) - just my voice, and my Apple Pencil interacting with the screen. But, because I’m generous, I decided to share them with my colleagues in other schools (and my own) on our provincial email group. I’ve uploaded them to YouTube and created a playlist for this topic, and that’s the link I shared. I was gob-smacked by the responses. I can’t tell you how many teachers replied to show their appreciation - for my rubbish videos! I mean, granted, they’re not as bad as the Telematics videos (*shiver*, #notasbadaswilliamsmith), but they’re not nearly as good as the ones made by professionals like Khan, or Bozeman, or The Amoeba Sisters, to name but a few. I’m not even sure my kids need them, given resources like that. But even my kids have said how much they appreciated them. Maybe it’s just the familiarity of my voice...

So maybe I’m selling myself short. Maybe there is something special about me after all. I guess you should ask the hubby - after all, he’s lived with me and put up with me for the past 22 years. (Did I mention that we’ve been married for TWENTY TWO years???)

Here’s to you, my love! You are my hero, and your kids’ hero. I thank God for you, and the past 22 years. (TWENTY TWO!)

A week into Lockdown and counting

Today marks day 7 of our lockdown. I think we’re settling into it now, getting used to new rythyms. My body has gone back to its normal schedule - bed after 11pm some time and up around 9am. I do still find the start to the day problematic though - I could easily keep dozing till noon and do nothing all day every day, because part of me can’t help thinking there’s no point to getting up. Thank goodness the children have to “do” school... because I know I’ll get it in the ear if I don’t “do” school too.

As an Achiever (Clifton Strengths), reflecting on today I feel satisfied with all managed to do. I did some school work and connected with a few kids. I did some school related crafts....

Can you guess what these are? I’ll give you a clue - they’re molecules from the Gr 10 Life Sciences curriculum...

Then, at lunch, I got to eat some produce from my garden - YAY! - plus a delicious meal made by my husband. I spent the afternoon cleaning and sterilizing the kitchen so that I could then do some cooking for the ICU and general ward staff at Groote Schuur Hospital. (If you want to join in, most suburbs have a Community Action Network and many have a baking group. If you can’t find one for your own suburb, you can check out Pinelands CAN on Facebook for details and start your own for your own neighbourhood.) I should really have taken a photo of me in my cooking gear... including shower cap on my head to keep my hair out of my face! It was quite a palava, but so worth it. There’s no point in us doing the gratitude thing at 8pm as living in the leafy suburbs we are too far apart for anyone to hear our noise.... or at least, not in the way it would be in an apartment block. So I’m doing what I can to say thank you to them. It felt pretty awesome to hand over the mini-quiches I made to the driver this evening. (I just hope they taste OK!!)

Then, after supper, I have experimented with making a mielie meal dough (ahem! Not so much a dough as a patta-cake) which we made hand prints in, as a memento of our first week. As #1 said later: I don’t want a reminder of Lockdown! so there we go then. Thanks for nothing! As I type, it’s busy baking. If it turns out okay, once we’ve painted it, I’ll post a photo.

Thinking back over this past week, the kids and I have literally not left the house since last week Thursday. My super husband has always been the one to go out and do the essential shopping. It’s not so much the lack of contact, although even that is getting to me. (Zoom and Skype are great, but I miss seeing people in real life.) Rather, it’s that we’re not allowed to leave that is getting to me. At the best of times, I struggle with being told what to do. Even though I know that staying home is the best thing I can do to protect the most vulnerable, it’s hard.

Yesterday I opened our back gate, which opens directly onto the field adjacent to our house, and just stood in the gateway. Just having that open, and being able to stand there, felt like such freedom! Of course, the dogs thought we were going for a walk, so I didn’t stand there for long. Never the less, that small breath of freedom was intoxicating. Having the delivery of bags and labels for the food I was cooking today, and then the collection of said food, was exciting - new faces to talk to - and SUPER exciting for the dogs!

It is amazing to think how we took the small things for granted. Being able to walk out of our property - even just down the road - safely, without worrying about what we might come home with... Of course, those of us in the leafy suburbs have so much more to be grateful for - like the fact that we don’t have a shared outdoor toilet, that we have a garden space to walk around in safely, that (in general) we have jobs that continue to pay us a salary, that we can afford to buy food and that our cupboards are sufficiently stocked that we don’t really need to go out, or that we have a holiday home we were able to escape to before lockdown started - let alone that we have enough data/ WiFi access, or books on our shelves that we have only read once (or access to Kindle and Audible to download books), or board and card games in the cupboard, to keep ourselves endlessly entertained. Those of us who live in the leafy suburbs will survive this with some measure of ease, actually.

Although the lockdown is supposed to be protecting the most vunlerable, it is the most vulnerable who will end up paying the most when they lose their jobs and start to starve, or get sick. It is those who are alone and can’t get out to buy essentials, who have no-one to care for them who may suffer with mental health problems. Loneliness is a killer, literally, with more people dying from loneliness than the big 4 life-style diseases. These are the people who will really pay the price.

What does one say in view of all this? “I’m alright, Jack! Sorry for you”? Yet, there is also nothing I can do, practically, to change things at this point. So rather than focus on what I can’t do, I will focus on what I can. I can pray. I can make video calls to those who need it. I can cook and bake treats for our essential services and first responders. I can make the most of this time to get fit, so that I can keep healthy and not put further strain on our health system.

One week down, two to go (at least). Let’s focus on what we can do, and not get bogged down in the fear and anxiety that so often goes with being out of control. I tell you what, I’ll pray for you if you promise to pray for me. What do you say?