During term time, in the mornings, when the kids wake up, they come for a cuddle in bed with me. We start every day with hugs and kisses and snuggles, and I get a chance to smell their heads. Yes, you read that right. To me, there is no better smell in the world than the smell of my kids' heads, particularly the younger one. It's not a baby smell anymore (don't new babies smell incredible?!?!), but it's still delicious.
And I am grateful for these moments of intimacy with my still-sleepy children.
I know that in time to come they will both feel too big to do this, too grown up, too mature. When that time comes, I will grieve a bit. But for now, I am lapping it all up and storing these memories in my heart, to reflect upon once they have flown the nest.
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Gratitude day #26
Today we went to support members of our cell group who run an NPO called The Royal Kidz. They run a project that provides school shoes for underprivileged kids. Today's hand over was special though, as they handed over not just school shoes, but also a school uniform.
The 3 schools they blessed today were farm schools in Ceres. These schools are so poor, and small, that they haven't got a uniform. Many of the kids who attend these 3 schools not on,y have no shoes, they have no jerseys, jackets, hats, or scarves, yet they attend school in the snow in winter.
So Dano and Tony got sponsors to be able to make these kids a school uniform - jersey, track suit, beanie and scarf, as well as providing school shoes.
It was my privilege to support them in this - to help hand over, to help dress the kids in their new uniform, to help serve them lunch.
And I am grateful for both the opportunity to serve them, and that my kids' schools are as well-provisioned as they are. A little glimpse into the world of these farm children has rekindled my gratitude for all that God has given my family.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Gratitude day #18
We had some friends over for dinner last night, one of whom did not know the story of our loss of Zoe, or of te support group we run, Born Sleeping (check us out on Facebook - BornSleepingZA - or our website, Bornsleeping.wordpress.com), so we were telling him our story. Being a medic type, he was fascinated by my APS, and we were chatting about my symptoms and treatment (or lack thereof). In the re-telling and discussion, I was reminded so clearly of what a miracle it is that both my children are alive; that instead of having all of my children in heaven, I have two of them on earth with me. I am grateful to God for the lives of all my kids, living and dead, but I am all the more grateful to have two living. I am grateful that I am able to experience them, know them, love them, watch them growing and developing, and that I am able to feel their love in return. What a blessing and privilege!
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Gratitude day #16
In our multi-faith, multicultural environment, I have been grateful that my kids have some friends who are being raised in their faith. Don't get me wrong, I want my kids to have friends of other faiths and cultures, because I believe it is important for them to learn tolerance and acceptance, and because I believe being exposed to diversity is good. However, I still want them to have friends with whom they share their faith.
This holiday I have been aware of how few friends they each have with whom they do share their faith, and so I am grateful for these few. I treasure these friendships, and my developing friendships with their friends' parents. I know that in years to come, having friends who share their faith, and therefore understand their questions in a particular way, and who can walk their faith journey with them will be invaluable. Having friends who have been around since childhood is also invaluable.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Gratitude day #11
I am grateful for extended family. I am grateful my children have hoardes of cousins.
Older cousins act as role models, something to aspire to, other 'adults' they can look up to, emulate, love, and I hope they can also turn to them when they are in trouble.
Younger or cousins of the same age are friends they can play with - instant friends, who aren't afraid to call them on their behaviour for fear of no longer being friends.
We had cousins for a sleep-over. These cousins will be moving to JHB soon, and we will miss them terribly. There will be a huge cousin-shaped hole in our lives.
Isn't is funny how you only really appreciate something when it has either already been taken away or is about to be? No, not really, is it? More like tragic.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Gratitude day #10
As our holiday away draws to a close I am grateful for something relatively small: that my kids have enjoyed each other's company.
With kids, they often fight and clash. Sometimes it's jus old-fashioned sinking rivalry, sometimes it is the age difference - that what one wants is above or below the abilities of the other, or different age-appropriate interests. If I am honest, when we are home, they often annoy each other (and their oarents as a result!) and the levels of frustration in our house are often high.
Yet, this holiday, there have been no arguments. They have played and played and played, and just enjoyed each other's company. Whether it is the additional space, or the freedom to roam they don't get at home, or being away from screens, or having more relaxed parents, or a combination, I don't know. It has been bliss though! I have been so grateful for the break from the whining, the button-pushing, the lame-shifting and the physicality born from frustration! Another week at home before the next term starts though, and I pray this break has given the emotional wherewithal to maintain this for this next week.
Gratitude day #8
If you see my kids you will often see that their clothes are either patched, or have holes. Partly this is because I refuse to pay good money for clothing that will only last them a season - they are growing at a rate of knots! As a result, many of their clothes have been second hand, hand me downs. Partly, this is because my kids are active - they climb, run, ride, crawl - and their activity takes a physical toll of their clothes.
Just yesterday, #1 came home with new holes next to a previous hole I'd sewn up. I was so frustrated, because part of me wishes the kids would take better care of their clothing. But then I got to thinking about it, and realised that, given the choice, I would rather have holes in their clothes than not.
Oddly, I am grateful for the holes. The holes show both that my kids are not spending every spare moment in front of a screen - they are having something of the childhood I had - and that (at the end of the day) we are not obsessed about material goods. We do not have to have the latest fashion, or branded clothing.
When I look at the number of fat, or obese children, and the increase in childhood obesity, I am pleased that my kids are learning that being physical is healthy as well as fun. If their clothes suffer, well, clothes can be replaced. Fingers and toes, or eyesight, lost through diabetes are not as easy (or cheap) to replace.
When I look at the image-consciousness of children I teach, or those of more wealthy friends and friends, I worry about my kids. I don't want them to be the object of name-calling, teasing or bullying because of their clothes, but at the same time, I don't want my kids to become like those kids. At the moment it is easy for my kids to be oblivious. I know the time will come when they will become aware of their clothes, and then we will need to have that discussion. In the meantime, I don't want them to have to refrain from being kids because I am overly-concerned they will damage clothing that cost the earth to purchase. I want them to know that clothes are just something to cover the body.
I am grateful for these physical reminders that our kids are growing up learning appropriate values - to enjoy physical play and being active; and that clothing does not have to be a status symbol.
Thursday, July 03, 2014
Gratitude day #5
Is it cheating if I repeat a gratitude item? Not just for the sake of repeating it, or because I couldn't think of anything else to say, but because I genuinely find myself giving thanks for it over and over?
Hmm... Okay, then I'll slant this one slightly, so it's not exactly the same.
Today I am grateful for the laughter of children. There is something, some quality, in their laughter that lifts the weary soul, puts a smile on your face, that takes years off your life.
My kids played together so beautifully yesterday. They just enjoyed each other. The result was a lot of laughter. Listening to them laugh, even though we were running late, even though I didn't want to get out of bed, even though I didn't want to make them MORE breakfast, etc. etc., I could not help but smile at them, and laugh with them.
Children have such a simplistic view of the world, and it is so refreshing. It restores the soul in many ways. Couple that with laughter and you have a winning formula! I am so grateful to have e laughter of children ringing in my house. I suspect that I will suffer terribly from empty best syndrome when they go, when they grow up, and partly because I need their simplicity and their laughter to remind me that I take myself, and the world, far too seriously at times.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Mother's Day is pain for some
Mother's Day, like so many other celebrations, can be a fabulous day, or a torment, depending on one's position and perspective. For those who have children, it's usually a good day, but for those who long for children, it can be a torment. For those of us who have a foot in each camp though, it is a mixed blessing.
On the one hand, we are eternally grateful for the children we have, for the blessing they are in our lives. On the other hand though, Mother's Day only serves to highlight the lack in our lives - the missing children; the ones we have lost to death, the ones we long to have but can't.
Sitting in church on Sunday morning, I was struck by the fact that most of life is lived between two camps.
A friend adopted a beautiful girl several years ago. For her, Mother's Day is a day to celebrate the fact that she has this beautiful child n her life, but it is also a day of great sadness, thinking about the tragedy that made it necessary for the birth mother to give her child up for adoption. It is also a day of sadness for her, being aced, yet again, with her own inability to be pregnant and give birth.
Another friend is single, and longs for a husband and children of her own. She celebrated the gift her own mother is to her, but weeps that (as yet) God has not chosen to bless her with children of her own.
Then there is the mother whose adult son, a member of our congregation, was tragically shot and killed in a mugging over the weekend. For her, Mother's Day will always be linked to her son's murder....
There is my own story, of nearly losing one child, and then losing the next one, because of a disease I didn't know I had, until it was too late. As a child, I also have two mothers - my birth mother, who raised me and loves me and is an awesome woman; and my step-mother, who loves me despite the fact that for years I thought she was the cause of my parents' divorce.
For all of us, and for so many more, life is this dichotomy, joy and pain, laughter and tears, celebration and mourning. Yet, in the midst of it all, there is God.
Losing my child was the most difficult road I have ever had to walk. Those of you who have followed my blog will know the story, the deep questions I had about God, and for God. As I emerged on the other side of grief though, I discovered that through it all, God had been holding me in his hands. Wile I had let go of him, he never let go of me. I learnt that it is possible to praise God in the midst of pain, not FOR the pain, but despite it.
The tears still fall. The hole in my life is still there. My daughter is still dead. YET will I praise him. I praise him for the gift of motherhood, of children, even though this gift has come with large doses of tears. Love involves grief, it cannot be otherwise, this side of heaven.
Thus, I am always on the look-out for songs that, as the Psalms do, express something of this dichotomy. I often feel that our western style of worship ignores the lament, the worship given in the place of deepest sorrow, because we live in a culture where pain is medicated away, or surgically fixed, and therefore we don't know how to handle the pain of a soul, which cannot be treated so easily.
I recently re-discovered Tim Hughes' song "When the silence falls", popularly known as 'When the tears fall', which is exactly this kind of song. I found two versions on YouTube that I like, for different reasons. Watch them both, and decide for yourself which one you prefer.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Things my son has taught me
You know that site "Reasons my son is crying"? I love it! Love it! This morning, while Nathan was crying, I thought of it again.
Why was he crying? Sadly, for a reason not half as entertaining as the ones on that site. No, sadly, he had been rather naughty and was on a time out. He didn't want to be on a time out, and was (rather vociferously) informing the rest of the world about it.
With both of us being ill at the moment, it is tempting to let the kids run riot, but when we do, it always comes back to bite us. So, bravely, G had dealt with the issue and put Nathan on a time out. I was lying in bed, head spinning and sore, when the thought occurred to me: I wish there was a way to discipline the kids that didn't also hurt us.
Discipline is costly - every time I have to enforce boundaries with the kids, it costs me. It costs not just in energy, but in love. It hurts me to have to listen to my kids crying because they genuinely feel aggrieved by something - to hear them sob their little hearts out. But I do it because I love them, because I know that in the long run, it is better for them to learn the lesson now: they are not the centre of the world; they are part of a community and must learn to live lovingingly and peaceably in it; they can't always get what they want.
Failing to teach them these lessons will cause them untold harm in the real world. So we have to enforce the boundaries. Yet, it breaks my heart to see them in pain - even knowing that their pain is temporary and necessary.
In addition, it hurts me because it means the kids aren't listening to me, they aren't being obedient, they aren't being respectful.
And then it struck me - God is a parent. God disciplines his children. When he does, so often we focus on the pain we are feeling, and we forget that any discipline costs the parent too. Any discipline hurts the parent too, and how much more it must hurt the Ultimate Parent. Every time we sin, and it costs God. In fact, it cost him his life, ultimately. Instead of us having to go on the mother of all time-outs, he allowed himself to be tortured to death.
Even now though, when God needs to discipline me, it continues to cost him - in love.
And this is yet one more reason why I love my kids, why I am so grateful they are in my life, why they truly are a blessing from God - because in being their parent, I am taught lessons about God my father, and about being a child.
Why was he crying? Sadly, for a reason not half as entertaining as the ones on that site. No, sadly, he had been rather naughty and was on a time out. He didn't want to be on a time out, and was (rather vociferously) informing the rest of the world about it.
With both of us being ill at the moment, it is tempting to let the kids run riot, but when we do, it always comes back to bite us. So, bravely, G had dealt with the issue and put Nathan on a time out. I was lying in bed, head spinning and sore, when the thought occurred to me: I wish there was a way to discipline the kids that didn't also hurt us.
Discipline is costly - every time I have to enforce boundaries with the kids, it costs me. It costs not just in energy, but in love. It hurts me to have to listen to my kids crying because they genuinely feel aggrieved by something - to hear them sob their little hearts out. But I do it because I love them, because I know that in the long run, it is better for them to learn the lesson now: they are not the centre of the world; they are part of a community and must learn to live lovingingly and peaceably in it; they can't always get what they want.
Failing to teach them these lessons will cause them untold harm in the real world. So we have to enforce the boundaries. Yet, it breaks my heart to see them in pain - even knowing that their pain is temporary and necessary.
In addition, it hurts me because it means the kids aren't listening to me, they aren't being obedient, they aren't being respectful.
And then it struck me - God is a parent. God disciplines his children. When he does, so often we focus on the pain we are feeling, and we forget that any discipline costs the parent too. Any discipline hurts the parent too, and how much more it must hurt the Ultimate Parent. Every time we sin, and it costs God. In fact, it cost him his life, ultimately. Instead of us having to go on the mother of all time-outs, he allowed himself to be tortured to death.
Even now though, when God needs to discipline me, it continues to cost him - in love.
And this is yet one more reason why I love my kids, why I am so grateful they are in my life, why they truly are a blessing from God - because in being their parent, I am taught lessons about God my father, and about being a child.
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Raising kids in the 21st century
When you have a child, it doesn't come with a manual. There is no 'how to' when it comes to parenting. Most parents muddle through it pretty well - I mean, the vast majority of us are only mildly odd. However, I think parents today have a tougher time than previous generations. (I know that every generation of parents say this, and they're probably right.)
Why? Because between the sexual revolution in the '60s and the advent of technology for the masses (TV, internet, social media, etc) the moral fibre of society has deteriorated while becoming much more easily accessible by children. I'm talking particularly about issues surrounding sex.
Case in point - '50 shades of grey'. There is now a generation of teens (and pre-teens) who have read this book, and think that what it portrays is 'normal' sexual behaviour.
Many would counter and say that this stuff always happened, but was just better hidden. I would counter that to say that while there is no doubt that sexual promiscuity and experimentation amongst children and teens has probably always occurred, the percentage of youth for whom it was 'normal', or the percentage who took part was much, much smaller. I don't have any facts to back it up, just a gut feel.
It's like the argument about having cell phones in class. Yes, children have always passed notes in class. It's just the method that has changed. However, there is truth in the fact that because of the advent of cell phones, it is now much easier to "pass notes" in class than it was previously. It is less noticeable to BBM, or Whatsapp, than it is to lean over and pass a note to the person behind/ in front of you.
As with the issue of cell phones in class, I believe that the way to circumvent the problem regarding sexual behaviour in kids (you can't solve it, I don't think) is to be proactive.
This morning's sermon was about some of the shocking things that Jesus said about sex. It was a brilliant sermon. (The podcast will be up on our church website to download early next week.) However, one of the things that I sparked on was the fact that I am raising a boy and a girl. For each of them, I need to equip them to be able to cope in a world where 'normal' is to adhere to gender stereotypes (boys are 'macho' if they have multiple sexual conquests, girls are 'mature' if they have sex with their boyfriends); to have sex as a pre-teen, or a teen, is acceptable; looking at or watching porn is expected; being celibate or abstaining is 'weird' and 'unhealthy'; where having unprotected sex (as opposed to protected sex) shows how much you love the other person.... The list goes on. Of course, none of this covers the issues of sexually transmitted diseases, HIV, rape (a massive scourge in SA), or other really awful sexual encounters this generation of kids will face.
It is my responsibility to protect my kids while they are small, and to train them as they get older, so that they can ultimately make the right decisions to be able to protect themselves - not just physically, but also morally and spiritually. As I said earlier - there is no manual for raising kids. Every generation of parents has to figure out, in the changing climate and culture, how best to parent their children.
It's a tough job, one that requires constant vigilance. It means that I have to make the most of every opportunity that presents itself to explain and train - no matter how awkward it may be for me. #1 has already asked about masturbation. She has also already walked in on G and I having sex (despite a locked door, I might add!) Raising kids in this climate is not easy. I just pray that I get it right as much as possible - for their sakes.
To all parents who are getting it right most of the time: I salute you! Yours is a sacred entrustment. Strength to you for the journey ahead.
_____________________________________________________________
On a slight tangent, this photo was doing the rounds on Facebook this afternoon. Although it's not directly on this topic, I thought it a fair statement about the sacred role of parenthood. I'm not sure I agree with the 'I hate you' comment, but then, I'm not a parent to a pre-teen or teenager yet! *chuckle*
Why? Because between the sexual revolution in the '60s and the advent of technology for the masses (TV, internet, social media, etc) the moral fibre of society has deteriorated while becoming much more easily accessible by children. I'm talking particularly about issues surrounding sex.
Case in point - '50 shades of grey'. There is now a generation of teens (and pre-teens) who have read this book, and think that what it portrays is 'normal' sexual behaviour.
Many would counter and say that this stuff always happened, but was just better hidden. I would counter that to say that while there is no doubt that sexual promiscuity and experimentation amongst children and teens has probably always occurred, the percentage of youth for whom it was 'normal', or the percentage who took part was much, much smaller. I don't have any facts to back it up, just a gut feel.
It's like the argument about having cell phones in class. Yes, children have always passed notes in class. It's just the method that has changed. However, there is truth in the fact that because of the advent of cell phones, it is now much easier to "pass notes" in class than it was previously. It is less noticeable to BBM, or Whatsapp, than it is to lean over and pass a note to the person behind/ in front of you.
As with the issue of cell phones in class, I believe that the way to circumvent the problem regarding sexual behaviour in kids (you can't solve it, I don't think) is to be proactive.
This morning's sermon was about some of the shocking things that Jesus said about sex. It was a brilliant sermon. (The podcast will be up on our church website to download early next week.) However, one of the things that I sparked on was the fact that I am raising a boy and a girl. For each of them, I need to equip them to be able to cope in a world where 'normal' is to adhere to gender stereotypes (boys are 'macho' if they have multiple sexual conquests, girls are 'mature' if they have sex with their boyfriends); to have sex as a pre-teen, or a teen, is acceptable; looking at or watching porn is expected; being celibate or abstaining is 'weird' and 'unhealthy'; where having unprotected sex (as opposed to protected sex) shows how much you love the other person.... The list goes on. Of course, none of this covers the issues of sexually transmitted diseases, HIV, rape (a massive scourge in SA), or other really awful sexual encounters this generation of kids will face.
It is my responsibility to protect my kids while they are small, and to train them as they get older, so that they can ultimately make the right decisions to be able to protect themselves - not just physically, but also morally and spiritually. As I said earlier - there is no manual for raising kids. Every generation of parents has to figure out, in the changing climate and culture, how best to parent their children.
It's a tough job, one that requires constant vigilance. It means that I have to make the most of every opportunity that presents itself to explain and train - no matter how awkward it may be for me. #1 has already asked about masturbation. She has also already walked in on G and I having sex (despite a locked door, I might add!) Raising kids in this climate is not easy. I just pray that I get it right as much as possible - for their sakes.
To all parents who are getting it right most of the time: I salute you! Yours is a sacred entrustment. Strength to you for the journey ahead.
_____________________________________________________________
On a slight tangent, this photo was doing the rounds on Facebook this afternoon. Although it's not directly on this topic, I thought it a fair statement about the sacred role of parenthood. I'm not sure I agree with the 'I hate you' comment, but then, I'm not a parent to a pre-teen or teenager yet! *chuckle*
Monday, February 18, 2013
Days of yore
Yesterday I relived a favourite childhood activity. I dug in the beach for white mussels. For years, I've been unable to find them, but today we found 4 little ones. I'm hopeful that this signals a return in biodiversity to the beaches.
(I see that chameleons are returning to the city's gardens after years of absence, and flamingos have returned to the Black River. All round it seems that biodiversity is on the increase again. Yay!)
It makes me hanker for my childhood and things like sailing at Hout Bay or Fish Hoek every weekend.
Yet, those times are tinged in grief for me, because the best times of my childhood were also the worst, as my parents were fighting and eventually divorced.
The effects of a divorce are long lasting, particularly for the children involved. I genuinely don't think anyone understand unless they've been through it themselves. This morning, 27 years after my folks split up, the grief was raw again. It will never be over for me. The grief of having my parents stop loving each other, of having to share them with their new partners, and those partners' children, will always be there.
This chasm, this heart break, can be papered over most of the time, but that's all it ever is - a pretense that I don't mind, that I am okay with it. 27 years later, and I'm still not okay with it. 27 years later, as a grown woman with children of my own, I still hate it.
But with the realisation that my family life will never be what I long for, I found myself realising that my family now is my husband and my kids. My extended family is my church community and friends, and Graeme's family. I'd love to say I no longer care about what my step-parents do or don't think/ feel/ say, but I do care. Deeply.
I care because their decisions affect my parents, and that affects me. Their decisions put my parents in some very awkward situations, which I don't think is fair on them. I can see their pain at having to choose, sometimes, between me & my kids, and their partner.
But then, as I told my own daughter this evening: Life is not fair. The sooner she accepts that, the easier her life will be.
Family and relationships are so complex. Things are never as cut and dried as we'd like them to be. So now I am faced with a decision to make, in which I must weigh up a multitude of effects, and try to determine which set of effects will be the least damaging to my own heart, to my kids' hearts, to my parents' hearts, and find the decision and action that will create it.
And of course, try not to let my emotions get the better of me while I'm trying to make that decision.
Things really were so much simpler when I was little! Right was right, and wrong was wrong, and things were always black and white, not shades of grey. But would I really want to go back to that time? I don't know. I didn't have an easy childhood, but before my folks got divorced, at least I didn't have that complication to deal with. At least that portion of my life was simpler to deal with.
And right now, I long for that simplicity again.
Monday, July 02, 2012
Have we cracked the nod?
I've just had such an exciting phone-call. Many of you who have been reading this blog for a few years will know that G and I run a support group for parents who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death, based in Cape Town, but for all South Africans. For a long time, we pushed on doors at various maternity hospitals and wards, to publicise our work, to no avail. We had several positive meetings with various people, but since then, we've heard nothing at all.
In retrospect, it was probably a good thing, as I doubt we could have coped with much more than we were doing at the time. On average though, we get about 4 or 5 contacts a month, several of whom take it no further - just needing to know that there is someone there if they need it. However, we've been having about one meeting a month of late, so things are slowly picking up.
Which leads me to the phone call I've just had. I don't usually answer my phone for numbers I don't recognise, but for some reason tonight I decided to answer. On the phone was a trauma counsellor who works for Discovery, wanting to know whether he could refer someone to us!! I'll skip the bit about the woman involved, and jump straight to the bit I found exciting. I asked him how he got our number, and he said he's not sure. He didn't know of anyone offering a support group for stillbirth, so he contacted a friend at Cape Town municipality, who then contacted someone else, who then contacted someone else, who just 'happened' to have our number (not even our website url or email!).
Now I ask you - if that isn't Providence, then what is?
So - it seems that news of our small support group and the work we do is slowly starting to filter around the city. This thrills me beyond words! Not because I want to be famous for anything, but because it means that the men and women who are in deep distress can be reached, and comforted, and given hope. I'm not expecting much to change in the immediate future, really, because our experience is that Saffa's don't like to talk about death, or about losing a child.
Yet, just knowing that the right people out there are becoming aware of us, and can refer others to us, means that I know that our work of bringing hope and support and comfort to these very broken people will increase, and that excites me intensely.
In retrospect, it was probably a good thing, as I doubt we could have coped with much more than we were doing at the time. On average though, we get about 4 or 5 contacts a month, several of whom take it no further - just needing to know that there is someone there if they need it. However, we've been having about one meeting a month of late, so things are slowly picking up.
Which leads me to the phone call I've just had. I don't usually answer my phone for numbers I don't recognise, but for some reason tonight I decided to answer. On the phone was a trauma counsellor who works for Discovery, wanting to know whether he could refer someone to us!! I'll skip the bit about the woman involved, and jump straight to the bit I found exciting. I asked him how he got our number, and he said he's not sure. He didn't know of anyone offering a support group for stillbirth, so he contacted a friend at Cape Town municipality, who then contacted someone else, who then contacted someone else, who just 'happened' to have our number (not even our website url or email!).
Now I ask you - if that isn't Providence, then what is?
So - it seems that news of our small support group and the work we do is slowly starting to filter around the city. This thrills me beyond words! Not because I want to be famous for anything, but because it means that the men and women who are in deep distress can be reached, and comforted, and given hope. I'm not expecting much to change in the immediate future, really, because our experience is that Saffa's don't like to talk about death, or about losing a child.
Yet, just knowing that the right people out there are becoming aware of us, and can refer others to us, means that I know that our work of bringing hope and support and comfort to these very broken people will increase, and that excites me intensely.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
A man for all seasons
June is definitely a month of remembrances for me! A week ago it was my son's birthday. This week it is my father's, and in between is Father's Day.
I know that all (okay, maybe not all, but let's go with the generalisation anyway) little girls think their dad is the best, but mine really is. The longer I'm a parent, the more I appreciate what an incredible father my own dad is. I know he would disagree. He often thinks he was/ is a failure as a parent. Nothing could be further from the truth. It's just that his standards for parenting are utter perfection - and if that were the standard, then no-one would ever make it.
My dad can make ANYTHING from ANYTHING. He's a real, living, breathing McGyver, except 100x better. He loves science, and particularly astronomy. He is brilliant at maths (especially calculus, which I abhor - AND he can work out logs in his head!). He enjoys soccer, cricket and rugby, but not half as much as he does athletics and gymnastics. (He was nearly a Springbok gymnast in his day.) He ran goodness knows how many Comrades and Two Oceans. He sails. He loves the rain, and a damp, lush garden. He loves jazz. He could spend days reading (science fiction or mysteries) if there weren't so many things to do around the house, or if there wasn't work to do. His general knowledge is phenomenal. The only things he can't do, are cook and sew.
My dad has a capacity for love that continues to astound me. He has learnt that people are more important than things, and over the years, "things" have lost their value for him. (Not to say that he doesn't appreciate the finer things in life, just that they're not as important to him as they were 3 decades ago.) He adores his kids, including his adopted ones, and he adores his grandchildren.
But to me, the most important thing about my dad, is that he never, ever gives up. Ever. He has faced life threatening situations in more ways than I care to remember - whether physically threatening, or financially, or emotionally. Yet, every time (after a period of deep sadness and maybe depression), he eventually picks himself up and carries on. He finds a way to go on living. He makes a plan. He's like a cat with 9 lives. Just when you're sure that this must be the end, he re-invents himself, re-imagines his life, and finds a new direction for himself.
If I was ever in a tight spot, he's the man I want in my corner. He believes in me, and supports me, and cheers me on. Everyone needs someone like that, fighting on their side. My dad's one of those I know I can rely on, no matter what. Even when I have stuffed up completely, he's there for me. Always.
Just by being who he is, my dad has taught me so much. He's taught me that:
I love you, Dad. You are awesome. Never under-estimate how incredible you are. I hope and pray that we have many more years together, so that my children can get to know the amazing man you are, and love you as much as I do, so that your legacy of wisdom and hope and love can continue for generations yet to come. Happy Father's Day, and happy birthday!
I know that all (okay, maybe not all, but let's go with the generalisation anyway) little girls think their dad is the best, but mine really is. The longer I'm a parent, the more I appreciate what an incredible father my own dad is. I know he would disagree. He often thinks he was/ is a failure as a parent. Nothing could be further from the truth. It's just that his standards for parenting are utter perfection - and if that were the standard, then no-one would ever make it.
My dad can make ANYTHING from ANYTHING. He's a real, living, breathing McGyver, except 100x better. He loves science, and particularly astronomy. He is brilliant at maths (especially calculus, which I abhor - AND he can work out logs in his head!). He enjoys soccer, cricket and rugby, but not half as much as he does athletics and gymnastics. (He was nearly a Springbok gymnast in his day.) He ran goodness knows how many Comrades and Two Oceans. He sails. He loves the rain, and a damp, lush garden. He loves jazz. He could spend days reading (science fiction or mysteries) if there weren't so many things to do around the house, or if there wasn't work to do. His general knowledge is phenomenal. The only things he can't do, are cook and sew.
My dad has a capacity for love that continues to astound me. He has learnt that people are more important than things, and over the years, "things" have lost their value for him. (Not to say that he doesn't appreciate the finer things in life, just that they're not as important to him as they were 3 decades ago.) He adores his kids, including his adopted ones, and he adores his grandchildren.
But to me, the most important thing about my dad, is that he never, ever gives up. Ever. He has faced life threatening situations in more ways than I care to remember - whether physically threatening, or financially, or emotionally. Yet, every time (after a period of deep sadness and maybe depression), he eventually picks himself up and carries on. He finds a way to go on living. He makes a plan. He's like a cat with 9 lives. Just when you're sure that this must be the end, he re-invents himself, re-imagines his life, and finds a new direction for himself.
If I was ever in a tight spot, he's the man I want in my corner. He believes in me, and supports me, and cheers me on. Everyone needs someone like that, fighting on their side. My dad's one of those I know I can rely on, no matter what. Even when I have stuffed up completely, he's there for me. Always.
Just by being who he is, my dad has taught me so much. He's taught me that:
- it's not what you know (and this coming from the man who still knows SO MUCH MORE than I do) that counts, but who;
- it's not what you do that matters, but how;
- it's not how many friends you have, but the quality of those friends that counts;
- it's not how much stuff you have, but whether you have the love of your family;
- it's not about what sort of work you do, but about whether your work enables you to provide the necessities for your family;
- it's not about what political values or opinions you have, but about whether are true to yourself and to God.
I love you, Dad. You are awesome. Never under-estimate how incredible you are. I hope and pray that we have many more years together, so that my children can get to know the amazing man you are, and love you as much as I do, so that your legacy of wisdom and hope and love can continue for generations yet to come. Happy Father's Day, and happy birthday!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
And down they all go...
We are currently living in a house of invalids. Again. Sigh.
So I have really bad sinustis (homeopathic stuff didn't clear it; neither 1st nor 2nd lot of antibiotics have cleared it... looks like a 3rd dose is forthcoming, followed by ENT visit to determine whether operation is necessary). Yay.
Nathan has tonsillitis - 2nd bout in as many weeks. Oh yay. (In other news, his grommets have fallen out and his eardrums are fully healed; that's good, right? Yes, but only if the tonsillitis doesn't mean he needs to have another op to put another set in. Sigh. Yet another waiting game we will have to play.)
Nellie has a sore tummy and is coughing. Joy.
And Graeme... well, he keeps threatening to get sick, and I just keep threatening him back. ;) So far my tactic seems to be working. But no doubt, no sooner are the kids better and me mostly better, than he'll succumb.
WE NEED A HOLIDAY!
So I have really bad sinustis (homeopathic stuff didn't clear it; neither 1st nor 2nd lot of antibiotics have cleared it... looks like a 3rd dose is forthcoming, followed by ENT visit to determine whether operation is necessary). Yay.
Nathan has tonsillitis - 2nd bout in as many weeks. Oh yay. (In other news, his grommets have fallen out and his eardrums are fully healed; that's good, right? Yes, but only if the tonsillitis doesn't mean he needs to have another op to put another set in. Sigh. Yet another waiting game we will have to play.)
Nellie has a sore tummy and is coughing. Joy.
And Graeme... well, he keeps threatening to get sick, and I just keep threatening him back. ;) So far my tactic seems to be working. But no doubt, no sooner are the kids better and me mostly better, than he'll succumb.
WE NEED A HOLIDAY!
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Bonnievale worse than Hillbrow?
I heard some stories today about life in Bonnievale... horrific stories. Granted, it's hearsay, 3rd hand information, but the quote that stuck with me is that someone in power in the boxing world said he'd recently run a trial event with the youth in Bonnievale, and the aggression he saw there was worse than in Hillbrow.
With the recent death of a 6yr old, it would seem that things in Bonnievale are almost ready to boil over. Drugs is HUGE amongst kids. One 74yr old is working hard to change things there. She's got a programme going for pre-school kids, as well as for teenagers. Apparently, she told my source that many of the 18 yr olds she was working with did not even know what a toothbrush is for!!!
I don't really have many details, but I've asked for them. If even HALF of what I was told today is true, then Bonnievale is in desperate need, and I can't stand by and do nothing. I don't know what to do, but I know some people who might. I know my sleep will be troubled tonight, no doubts about that.
With the recent death of a 6yr old, it would seem that things in Bonnievale are almost ready to boil over. Drugs is HUGE amongst kids. One 74yr old is working hard to change things there. She's got a programme going for pre-school kids, as well as for teenagers. Apparently, she told my source that many of the 18 yr olds she was working with did not even know what a toothbrush is for!!!
I don't really have many details, but I've asked for them. If even HALF of what I was told today is true, then Bonnievale is in desperate need, and I can't stand by and do nothing. I don't know what to do, but I know some people who might. I know my sleep will be troubled tonight, no doubts about that.
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