Your friend’s dishtowel strung over her faucet
was a sentence which could be diagrammed
while your tumbled life, that basket of phrases,
had too many ways it might fit together.
Naomi Shihab Nye (from New Year)
It’s hard to believe that it’s eight months since I last posted. I shared part of a poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, and spoke of my need to make choices that would facilitate “an undiluted life”. And just a couple of days ago, I came across the words quoted above, also by Naomi Shihab Nye, from her poem New Year. So much has happened since October, and that “quiet place in the swirl” is only now becoming a reality.
After my dad’s stroke in August last year, I found myself more and more off kilter. I had the sense that I was losing my grip on my ability to keep it all together. The strain of the year’s challenges and the knowledge that my sons were not going to be at home much longer weighed heavy on me. I longed for stillness, time to gather my thoughts, but I couldn’t seem to create the space needed for that stillness. I couldn’t give myself permission.
We had been looking for a new home, one closer to my horse, in the university town of Stellenbosch, where our younger son would be studying. All year we visited agents and kept a watch out on Gumtree, with no success. Eventually in November, we came to an agreement with a landlord for the rental of a property on the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minute’s drive from my horse, in the shadow of the Jonkershoek mountains. It needed lots of work, but I felt in my heart that it would be home. We set about putting our Parklands house on the market and headed into Christmas and New Year.
I wish I could say that the path has been smooth. It has not. Our home sold twice and both sales fell through. We decided to buy a flat that our son could use and that would serve as an investment, and almost lost that in the process. Our house finally sold and we set a date for moving across to Stellenbosch. I meanwhile had been living partly in Parklands and partly in the empty house in Stellenbosch. I spent time-with much help from my parents and aunt-fixing the house up and making it feel like home. It was a hard season. I felt disoriented and torn, and missed my husband and sons terribly. (Sleeping alone in a big house where the only furniture is your mattress, a couple of camping chairs and a small wobbly table can be somewhat depressing.)
We moved the just a few days before Easter. That weekend my horse fell ill and was rushed to hospital on Easter Sunday. I thought I would lose him. My parents’ car was written off on the Tuesday after that, following a minor car accident. On the Wednesday my mother-in-law was diagnosed with terminal cancer. It was a week of overwhelm.
I am only starting to feel grounded again. Our boys have settled into their lives away from us, and although I miss them, I am so proud of the way they are moving into adult life. They are out of the nest and flying. My horse has recovered, and I love that I can see him every day. My mom-in-law is approaching this moment in her life with grace and deep faith. She is a beautiful example to us all, and we are trying to make as many memories together as we can.
Amidst all of this my friend Lisa and I have completed our little children’s book and the first print run arrived a short while ago. This is exciting and daunting all at once. It’s wonderful to see the words and pictures come together on the page in a real book. Now comes the work of marketing and selling, not easy for two introverted creatives! But we have already found one bookshop to stock it, and will be doing a launch there soon. (News of that will follow shortly. Keep an eye on my newsletter and Facebook.)