I am grateful for a room with a view. The most exquisite view. From my bed in a room with a view. I am grateful I got to wake up here this morning.
11 April. I am grateful for the sunset this evening. Not any sunset, but a sunset over the sea. I never realised how much I had missed it until now. Where we are now the sun rises over the sea. It never sets. I am also grateful for another homecoming. Being with Sandi and Pete in Kommetjie is just perfect. I never realised how much I had missed it until now.
10 April. I am grateful to have had the opportunity to enjoy a spectacular offering of The Phantom of the Opera with my family. And in particular my girls. I loved how moved they were by it, but even more so by the empathy and compassion shown by Kate at the young man begging in the street on a cold night with only a blanket for company as we left the theatre. At the unfairness of it all. At the sad jolt of reality. I only wished I could find the words to stop her tears. It is just not right.
Today I am grateful for the unexpected pleasure of the most delicious cabernet from the year of Kate’s birth. An extended family and friends lunch at Graham and Sonja is always a gift. Not only for the always perfect fillet, the laughter and sharing, but for the belonging. And the knowledge that the world really is very small. But most especially for that never depleted cellar filled with the most exquisite wines.
Never mind whether they’re 6 or 60, it’s always about the penis. I so wish I could claim this comment, but it belongs to Lynn, my other sister. This in response to Kate updating my family on the saga of her teenage love life. Or to set the record straight, the fact that she didn’t want one. And us all trying to explain why boys behave the way they do. Why men do. Lynn’s bloody right. But what I loved about the comment was less the truth but the fact that it was shared at breakfast with ages ranging from 7 to 74. We truly do all have a relationship of honesty, raw honesty. I know this will shock some but the ensuing hilarity was just utterly fabulous. Especially at my mom using the opportunity to educate her granddaughters even further. I know this may be unusual, even a tad controversial, but nothing has ever been taboo in our family, the table is always a safe place to talk about anything. Open and honest, with clear appropriate explanations and clear consistent boundaries. And a lot of laughs. For me it demonstrates one of my core beliefs … it’s not what you say, but what you do that counts. Don’t be scared to use words, to speak your mind, to share what you’ve heard, to speak in front of your children, to teach them in an open honest appropriate way, to encourage them to share, to learn from others. As long as the words are used with respect, and not to denigrate. To share truth. And really, what could be truer?
Today we celebrated my mom’s birthday early, so we could be together. With breakfast out. As our family does. I am grateful for the tradition of breakfast at Moyo for Lesley’s birthday. I love my mom and am proud that she is still so exquisitely beautiful at 72. She is the perfect example to me of inner beauty shining out. My mom is irreverent, fun, kind, honest, true, non judgemental and accepting of all and everything. She has an inner strength that sometimes I think not even she is aware of. She is the one who taught me to just do what you have to do. She does all she does, irreverent or not, naughty or not, with utmost grace and dignity. I am grateful to have been blessed with Lesley as my mom. Just as my girls are blessed to have her as a granny. I am grateful they have the perfect example of the kind of woman I hope they both grow up to be.
I loved being in Braamfontein today. On the outer skirts (for you Lynn) of Jo’burg inner city. It was where I spent my varsity days and it was wonderful to see the area reenergised and rejuvenated. I am grateful I got to see it as it is today. The coffee shops, the galleries, the design studios. The trendy foody vintagey neighbourgoods market is a must visit for all visitors here. And those who live here. My only promise to myself is next time I’ll also be swapping my flat white for a margarita. At 10 am.
We went to a wonderful fresh food, trendy, vintage clothing market cum foody space in Braamfontein today. Wonderful to be there, to see it and to feel the air of acceptance, living togetherness and simply getting on with it air I have felt this visit. But what really made me pause was when a complete stranger asked us what we thought of the skirt she was trying on as her mom hated it, and when another stranger told Kate how gorgeous she looked in the top she was trying on and continued to chat to her about her life for a good five minutes. Kate afterwards said how lovely she was, but wasn’t that a bit odd. That lady chatting to her like that. To me it wasn’t. But to Kate it was, because she isn’t used to it anymore. The funny thing is it’s not odd here. South African women are open and we generally do share, a lot and to anyone. Suddenly it all made a bit more sense, my being ok with my sharing. Because it’s what I’m used to. And why some of my friends find it odd. Because it’s not what they’re used to. Then again, maybe I do overdo it a bit. Just a teeny little bit.