Till Death and they meant it

I was at church this weekend. No surprises there! One of the aspects of the celebration was a blessing for a couple who celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary.

I thought 50 years was just about impossible let alone 60. And they still seem to have a couple more years in them!

A simple lesson in commitment, and a challenge to all of the rest of married couple out there, it can be done!

Just 100 minutes

The first morning of my romantic weekend away, I slipped out of bed, and headed for a special place in the Knysna forest. Today was a day to be tested. To see, if I was good enough.

 A year ago to this day, I had been standing on the same spot, wondering the same things. Then I could feel very little as the effects of strong drugs still leisurely cruised my bloodstream. Drugs that had tried hard to fight a tooth abscess and failed dismally. The run was my worst ever, most of it spent locked in a mental battle to put one foot in front of the other.

Four years ago, on my departure from executive mayhem, I set myself 10 life goals to achieve over the next five years. One of those goals was to run a half marathon (21 kilometres) in under 100 minutes. This was my year to set the record straight.

The race started well but I could feel myself tiring with six kilometres to go. Three kilometres later and the tank was empty, time was slipping away. I shared a word of encouragement with a walker, not sure if it was for me or for him. I really wanted to join him. Instead he started to run again, pacing me, both of us with nothing left to give, stride for stride, until at last the finish was behind us. With 19 seconds to spare!

It felt good to achieve a goal which has eluded me for years. It also felt good to have helped somebody else achieve the same goal, although I hope he felt the same way about me, because I could not have done it without him. I often share my strong mind overcomes everything philosophy with my children. This goal required me to live it and it was much tougher than expected. When all was done, I could not believe how close I had come to giving up. Sometimes success requires a short wallow in pain, and pushing through to the other side.

I am glad it was tough. If it had been easy, the goal would simply not have been tough enough. And what is the point of only doing things that are easy?

Home sweet home

As the fog rolled in yesterday afternoon, one of my neighbours pulled on long pants and snuggled into a jersey. An incredibly unusual event! With darkness looming, braais were circled on the street in front on my house. Flames engulfed the coals, beers opened, wine poured, and neighbours relaxed.
 

It was supposed to be as balmy as the previous two evenings but instead cold and eerie thick fog blanketing the evening. One should not complain about the middle of winter! Packs of children cycled, skated, shrieked, and terrified boys ran howling from kiss intense girls. Another night to remember!

This morning, nothing but a lone marshmallow on my lawn remained. Except of course for the unusual neighbourhood community spirit and friendship which continue to grow!

Madly in love

Mountains wreathed in mist overlook rolling farmlands clothed in iridescent green. Fields of bright yellow Canola stand tall in their prearranged positions in grandma’s patchwork quilt. Wild flowers grow in abundance along the sides of roads, and big splashes colour vast tracts of land. The normally ugly aloe, now in full orange flower, infuses the landscape with joy. 

The Western Cape is a beautiful place but right now, simply breathtaking.  A marvel to anyone with a moment to look out of the window!

It all pales in significance though, compared to the love I feel for the woman who sits beside me. Donna and I have managed to sneak off to Knysna for a romantic weekend for two. All made possible by my mother who in a moment of madness agreed to look after our three children.

Just two days sans the normal responsibilities of life and plans of any sort have refreshed and revitalised us in many special ways. This is time we so needed and yet could not find. It is also time we have to search for as often as possible in the future, because the benefits are tremendous.

Hopefully we will return home better parents than we left. More importantly, we will return home with bonds of love that have been retied and knotted a little tighter. Bonds which will see us through the good and bad times in a society where marriage seems doomed to failure.

As the flowers of the Cape reach toward the sun and together form a dizzying display, so too I hope my marriage together with all of the other g.ood marriages out there inspire those who are struggling

Rain, rain go away

I love the rain in winter in Cape Town. The way it pours for hours on end. The noise it makes on the roof as I lie in bed, snuggled tightly between my wife and the duvet. The wonderful freshness it brings to the garden and the new clarity in the sky. The way our little stream swells in volume and rushes frenetically toward the sea. And the joy of life all of this water signifies.

I met two families this morning who do not like the rain. Families who fear anything from a simple shower to a downpour. The way water cascades through the holes in their roof and down their walls. How it seeps under the ground and emerges on top of their floor. How their meagre possessions suck it up, swell, shatter, and break. How their clothing, curtains, and shoes become soggy and rot. How they hope for this rainy season to be over.

I took photographs of their houses with my phone. Wondering how my current top of mind concern about a phone upgrade stacks up against the plight of people so poor and disadvantaged and hopeless.

I wondered if it would make any difference if more of us who have so much visited those with so little.  Of course it would, because one cannot help but be moved by compassion.

And perhaps this is exactly why we all stay away!

18 people over to play

I live in a crescent, a half circle. On my street there are houses, filled with families. Friendly families with lots of kids and lots of wheeled toys!

Many an impromptu meeting takes place out on the tar. Coffee, wine, and beer are often ordered and served hot or very cold. And wheels and balls make any good conversation go round.

I often wonder how I ended up in a neighbourhood of friends. Where real community is taken for granted. Where our children play out there; on the road and in other people’s gardens. Where life almost seems as good and free as it was when I was a child.

We are so blessed!