Till death do us part OR sooner

Lately, the subject of divorce has been the topic of a number of discussions. I am no proponent of divorce and so discussions about divorce have always been rather short. It would seem that divorce has become the norm. I am now genuinely amazed to meet people who have been married for many years.

As a Catholic, I have no divorce escape hatch in my marriage. When Donna and I got married, we agreed it would never be an option. As a result, any argument we have is couched in the knowledge that there is no walking away. It does not mean we do not disagree about things, it does mean we both end up compromising. I can only hope and pray the love we share is sufficient to ride the swells of the rest of our lives together.

I have a friend going through one of the saddest ordeals ever. A brain damaged wife intent on absolutely destroying him. She wants lots of money to support her new free lifestyle sans children, which is a little difficult because he has nothing left to give. Her game is to go to incredible extremes in order to render his life as miserable as possible. Luckily he has only been arrested once this month for a charge she fabricated. The tragedy is that their three young daughters have become the collateral damage in the exacting of her revenge.

Somebody else I know has taken her children, packed what they could carry, and fled to Europe. Extreme measures to escape a new ex husband! She now waits tables, lives in a one room apartment, and is in a far better situation than having to deal with trumped up fraud charges, and his vindictive behaviour. One can only imagine how terrible life must have been for one to resort to fleeing the country...

I understand that these people are not the only ones. There are many more out there whose spouses are out for annihilation of their ex significant others. Now I can feel for an aggrieved spouse, it must be soul destroying. To have gambled the rest of your life on someone, only to have them fail you, must be more than extremely difficult. To have to start one’s life again when least expected, cannot be for the faint hearted. I fail to understand why a separation and new beginning is not sufficient, and where it becomes life consuming to bring this person you once loved to their knees.

I recently wrote about marriage and how it is a sacrifice of one’s life for another. Children change that dynamic again. Life is then supposed to be sacrificed for them, their well being trumping all else. A parent gets to fill these impressionable lives with love, joy, and valuable lessons on how to grow into adults of worth.

Divorce in many instances is as a result of my needs being more important than my spouse or children. Right or wrong, the impact on children is devastating. I am no expert but have seen more than enough children shattered by the dynamics of the two family life.

 I am forced to admit that there is no magic answer to the conundrum. Every situation is different. I do feel that life needs to be less about me, myself, and I; and more about those around us. If we could live for the good of others, perhaps our own selfish needs would not continue to rip apart the soul of society.

Go Slow

No time to think! Days are spent in a frenzy of activity. Mondays morph into Fridays without respite. Weeks fly by, hardly acknowledged as being different to the ones that preceded them.

My children have sprinkled fairy dust on themselves, growing them like weeds in the night, completely unnoticed by myself. Both were caught out on a Judo scale, each a tenth heavier than just a couple of weeks ago. A perusal of old photographs clearly highlights their slow march to manhood. Even working from home I missed it all. Just too busy!

Then came yesterday, a day as long as my legs. Hours of tedious attention to detail work that sapped my brain of its joy. Bed again a welcome refuge from the demands of my little world. Has my little world grown too big, too demanding, and too out of control? Could this be true given how much I like my world, the freedom, the daily unpredictability, and the value I think I add to other people’s worlds?

No my world is not the problem, but perhaps the speed with which it spins. I think of Atlas with the world balanced on his shoulders and wonder if he would hear my plea. Just a little slower, old man! I know the control is within my grasp. Old Atlas is a myth, I can make it all stop.

Do I want to stop? Perhaps this nascent drive for action and results is a rush in itself. Without it, I may be lost and adrift in a sea of meaninglessness. Perhaps a pause is the better option, a meaningful combination of pace and delivery against nurturing time out for my own well being.

Even this writing has bled some of the frustration from my fingertips, washing my keyboard clean of its fear of touch. Such a short time spent within, and yet so remarkable a feeling of calm and acceptance. My drug of choice is not the pace of delivery but rather the short periods of introspection that give rise to a deepening of will, which feed every part of my life.

And a smile tugs at my lips.

So what really happened was...

So here is the real story of all the drama last week.

Three of us boys had arranged to meet for a night downhill longboard skating session. For those who don’t know, it just works better at night as you can see cars when they are far away and take evasive action in good time. Then again, it is just more thrilling by the light of a full moon!

We were to meet at 20h30 but I found myself taking my time and watching the opening scenes of some old movie with the family. I had no doubt the boys would wait for me. Until I heard a gunshot, followed by two more. Then I started to move!

It turned out Roger**, one of the boys and a neighbour, had set off earlier at the right time and surprised three chaps in the bushes at the top of the street. One pulled out a gun, pointed it in Roger’s** face, and pulled the trigger. And missed! They tangled and Roger** found himself pinned to the ground and fielding a swinging boot to the face before another neighbour ran into the road. Same chap pointed his gun in George’s** face, pulled the trigger, and missed! From what I gather, gangster gunslinger found it strange too, pointed the gun to his side, pulled the trigger, and shot his comrade. Who died right there on the pavement.

With no remorse whatsoever, the two remaining villains took off down the street with Roger** and George** in hot pursuit.When Roger's** wife joined the chase, both neighbours gave it up and left it to the professionals.

Due to a number of factors, armed response was on the scene within 60 seconds. And in such numbers it was mind blowing. There must have been upwards of 20 armed persons running the street. They found the baddies about 2km away, and it turns out they were wanted for all sorts of naughty things all along the coast. Score one for the good guys! The SAPS, and all of our local response companies were awesome! Our little community rallied around in minutes making sure all were comforted and protected. In a situation like this, it was great to know everyone instead of having to use it as our opportunity to introduce ourselves.

But it was close, very close to an unmitigated disaster. Had the gun toting idiot not been trying to shoot gangsta movie style, it would have been a tragedy for more than just baddie number three.

On the good side, a celebration braai was held this weekend, with upwards of 50 neighbours in attendance. We celebrated our lives, our little community, and our rejection of all things criminal.

We now even have a Facebook Group dedicated to our street. Communication has never been easier!

I keep wondering how I would have reacted because it could have been me first to the top of the street. And I keep coming back to the same answer; it went as well as it could have done for a bad situation, my reaction may well have made it all worse! Either way I firmly believe God was watching over us all…

** names changed to protect the innocent

 

So Close

This has not happened before - a guest writer on my blog. Stevo of Stevo Images was so quick off the mark to describe the craziness of Sunday night, I got him to agree to share his piece right here. Stevo is also of course the intrepid photographer who documents my every misstep out on the waves...

8pm Sunday September 11 and the silence in our sleepy crescent is shattered by a single gunshot.

I pause the surf DVD I'm watching, cock my ear, raised voices, 2 more shots ring out!

I open the front door, the sound of my neighbour racking his 9mm punctuates the still air; I step out to see what's going on - it seems a moonlit night's skate mission may have disturbed guys who had another agenda. 

Within seconds armed response vehicles screech to a halt - "shots fired man down send for #@! backup now... over" - my eyes follow the beam of torchlight, the same direction the guns are pointed, and see a body, motionless, half on the grassy verge our gardener has manicured only the day before. 

The radio crackles, calls for backup now needed down the road; cars screech off, replaced by more emergency vehicles. 



I get told to move inside (and promptly return armed with my Canon) - crime tape now blocks the road.

Neighbours stand around in groups discussing what has just unfolded as police comb the area marking spent shell cases, gathering evidence. 

It seems the gang shot one of their own in a case of mistaken identity! Awesome!

I get called over by a police colonel and get told to stop taking photos of his crime scene.

Many hours later, I eventually drift off to sleep to the sounds of vehicles, voices and barking dogs . . .

This morning there is no sign of any of last night’s drama in the flowerbed . . .

More to come...

 

Its all going down over here

This weekend was interesting.

We took a trip to Hermanus to introduce my mom and my in laws to the whales. Instead the only Wales we got to see were the ones the Springboks narrowly beat in their opening world cup rugby match. The drive was lovely through some majestic Cape scenery, reinforcing how privileged we are to live in such a place.

Then there was a dinner party that ended up being more of a party than dinner. Many new stories created that shall be rehashed at dinner parties for years to come...

Our idyllic street of which I have waxed lyrical so many times of late became the scene of two attempted murders and a killing. Now that you have gotten back into the chair you just fell off, it should be mentioned that all who live here are healthy and safe, but understandably traumatised. I will keep you in suspense on this one...

The men’s breakfast I MC’d was well attended and most enjoyable. There is something to be said for the camaraderie of men. Our guest speaker had a particularly poignant message for men, by all accounts, one of his pet topics.

His view on love is that it is a sacrifice. When one gets married, one sacrifices one’s life for one’s partner. Theoretically the partner does the same thing. In essence love wants nothing in return! If you are in a marriage where you are expecting to get something out, then you have the wrong idea. Those with children already well know how much of life is sacrificed to give ones offspring the best chances in life. Christianity too is also a sacrifice of our lives for Christ, the taking of the difficult road, the making of the hard choices, the keeping of high morals and values. The speakers challenge to men was to stand up and make a difference. To sacrifice our lives for the betterment of society which will mean tough decisions, and stands on issues others will ridicule.

One can imagine how much better marriage would work if we were in it for our partner alone. Looking after them and making their lives better in any way we could. Imagine how difficult that would be, and how rewarding. Imagine how our children would learn by our example.

Very simply, anything good in this world is going to be difficult and will start with each of us taking a stand and suffering the consequences.

Nervous synapses fired throughout my body, even though I was well prepared. 35 helium filled balloons bobbed above my head as a guy in a tuxedo attached a lapel mike to my suit jacket. My tie was more than a little uncomfortable, having hung on a tie rack for years without seeing the light of day. The balloons tugged on my arm as they tried to rearrange themselves on the ceiling five meters above me. I shook my head to try and focus...

This was my big moment. A presentation to the Supreme Convention of the Knights of da Gama, an order within the Catholic Church focussed on spreading the Kingdom of Christ on earth. This group had contributed a significant sum to a project in which I have been involved, and they now wanted some answers. More than that, I had the feeling the majority were not in favour of this project at all and viewed the investment of a waste of good money. The fact that almost all of the more than 100 men sitting here in smart suits were over 60, and my project revolved around new technology and social media, I knew I was in for a tough time.

Errol Naidoo of the Family Policy Institute wraps up his presentation. He is a great speaker and I am more than a little awed to have to follow his lead. He is passionate about the family and spends most of his time in parliament influencing laws which may negatively impact on this fundamental building block of society.

My project aims to re-evangelise Catholics through the use of technology and new media. Not something I ever thought would involve me, yet this project has me hooked, and has the potential to make the world a more loving place. I pray that God’s will be done. I know if it is his will, the presentation will go well, if not, that would be his will too.

Suddenly the floor is mine. My colourful balloons provide a bright contrast to the dark suits and ties. I launch into my opening and time slows. It is as if I have stepped into a period of grace, where every word is measured and right, where my timing is flawless, and where this serious meeting of men is infused with laughter. There can be no doubt, God is at my side.

One of the highlights of my life was winning the MD’s award for best depot and being recognised in front of about 1,500 colleagues at a banquet. I had felt so alive, infused with my team’s success, an incredible natural high. I did not think I would ever feel that way again and yet, this presentation was better than that. Perhaps because it really meant something! It is hard to explain, but I felt infused with grace and abilities that were not mine. A special and incredible experience, I will treasure for a long time.

The presentation was well beyond what I would have considered greatly successful. I now wonder where it will all lead...