Dearest Mom,
You were buried 11 years ago on the 28th of April – 10 days before my 34th birthday. My eldest son, your grandson was 3 ½ years old…my youngest still in my womb.
Eleven years way too early Mom…Eleven years before I was ready to actually say goodbye, before we’d talked properly about the wars we waged, the cold silences, the manipulative dances we orchestrated against each other…Wow – those were the days…
But today, today I only remember the good times – the twinkle in your eye… a wink at a stranger… you stopping to chat to just about any random stranger you could find… long personal chats… by the time we’d managed to prize you away you had the person’s name, telephone number, home, address and what they’re celebrating, or morning, needing or feeling… you really had a way with people Mom – you loved people – and were gregariously social – the bell of the ball, the Queen of your Domain. I loved your quest to save the underdog… to help the lonely to the talk to the forgotten and the reinvent the ousted!
You worked at a bank – as a supervisor in a credit control section… you had the highest returns and all your customers paid their debts on time – because they just felt too bad to disappoint you – you actually befriended one or two of your customers… with the advice you gave them and the help you found them… and the attention you gave them. I remember going to work with you – you used to go extra early on a Saturday morning so that you could take the long way to work and show off your daughter to all… on those days I would be kitted out in my best! “Have you met my girl – Robyn… she’s a really smarty tarty and she loves to dance – just like her Mommy!” …. Maaaaa! A scuff of the shoe, a yank on the arm and we were back on the move…. Stop for a muffin and a coffee and then in to the office block – a chat to the security team, the receptionist – a good word for all – asking about their children, their family or a unique situation that you knew was troubling them… you had time for everyone much to my 10 year old little girl impatience… geez Louise I thought we’d never arrive at your work…. I never forget wondering to myself how you ever got to work on time… my thought was if it took you this long to get to work… how long would it take to get you home again! But oh Mom that was the joy of being with you… everyone knew you… you loved a good story… you loved to chat, laugh with the girls! Well snort actually – there was no holding back with you… belly laughs… where your thing!
Lunch times at work were for card games – you girls had the stakes high – winner makes the lunch pot – be it a pot of curry or tripe and trotters – I never really got your thing for that dish – but there you go then – that comes from your love all things from the Eastern Cape. Having family from Pedi meant that you grew up loving the Xhosa language and our amazing people… you had more friends in the then townships than what the Black Sash ladies had I’m sure… I have photos of me and you at weddings in Gugs, Mitchells Plain and Hanover Park.... we all joked that all my Dad’s grey hair were because of you and driving you around to all your friends…. You never did get your licence – but that didn’t stop you… have train… will ride… have bus, can go… have husband… will chauffer… and then of course those naughty times when you and your eldest sister decided to do a Thelma and Louise and leave the men to their tea and moaning and head up the coast back to East London…
I miss you mom – your dancing, your love for music – your mischievous giggle and your love for all people – no matter who or what they were… you loved everyone equally…You cooked like no other women I know – our home always smelled of some delicious roast or bread or pudding… eish – no wonder I’m so….erm… voluptuous!
The day you got sick was a day the light started to fade from your eyes…your first stroke robbed you of your laughter… the second of your love for life and the third your will to live…
As the doyenne of our home and family we held onto you and all the good memories…we admonished and cajoled you to eat better, look after yourself, exercise more, do this, and that and more of this and a less of that… and you just looked at us with your fading green eyes and smiled a sad stubborn smile… no-one tells me… Marlene what to do… I live my life the way I want to…and so it is.
… I have other memories of you Mom, but today, myself an older wiser mother of two I can truly say that you were a beautiful woman and a wonderful soul and I am proud to be your daughter. I love you Mom.
Love Robyn.