TIMES I CRIED

I don’t know why I suddenly thought of this today: of times I cried. I mean CRIED. Not too many do I recall. When my second dad died, nah… it was a relief that he had passed. Enough said, sad as it is.

Random events come to mind: when Lady had to be put down. We had bathed her, gently dried her limp hair with a dryer, taken photo’s and made her comfotable on a towel on the back seat of the car. When Ans and I left her with the kind vet, I was so blinded by tears I could not drive. I remember heaving great heaves, sobbing my heart out. I think it was more for the memories behind how Lady had got to us (note to self: blog for another day).

When oom Boet died. It was May 13th 2009. Ek het pas na ‘n lang-asemvertelling van’n kollega geluister en gedink: van jou sal ek nooit kan hou nie (ek was totaal verkeerd). Na ek hom vertel het dat oom Boet sy Bybel sal kan herbind, het ek besluit om oom Boet te SMS. Dit was net toe wat ek van blerriePaul ‘n boodskap kry: “ek weet nie of jy weet nie, maar oom Boet has gone to be with the Lord.” Paul was sy dokter en ook ‘n baie goeie gemeenskaplike vriend. Ek was alleen in die Bookshop (besig om te volunteer); dierbare Lesley Ferreira het verbygeloop en my skielike snotstorm waargeneem. Ek het so gehuil en onsamehangend gepraat dat sy Lydia gaan roep het. Dié het my in Edna se kantoor laat sit en vir my die soetste (nee, tweedesoetste) koppie tee van my lewe gegee. My been het van skok op en af geruk; ek kon nie glo my ander pa was weg nie. Wie sou nou vir my ‘n leë boek bind met ‘n ellelange title en foto van my in ‘n blonde pruik agter-op? Wie sou vir my in die hospitaal kom kuier? Wie sou vir my Creflo Dollar, Jessie du Plantis, Joyce Meyer én opera op DVD sit? Wie sou vir my vyf plakke sjokolade sjokolade koop, net oor hy kon? Wie sou my “girlie” noem? Wie sou met oneindige geduld die vogeltjies gerasperde kaas voer en die foto’s vir my stuur? Wie sou kamma-kwaai met my raas as ek nie na myself kyk nie? Wie?