I loved my grandmother. She understood me – all of me. When my mom came down on me with sharp stinging words, she was the one that gave me a reassuring pat on the leg. When the dark clouds of my mom’s depression engulfed our home and I heard Strauss Waltzes coming down the driveway, … Continue reading taking time out
Don’t ever save anything for a special occasion being alive ís the special occasion Onderstebo. Dis hoe jy my na die lewe laat kyk. Uit ‘n ander hoek. Jy is die tweede kind, ek het gedink ek weet alles. Jy is my verrassing, my joy wat ek laag vir laag kan skil. Agter my en … Continue reading terloops…
Ek wou diep gaan grawe Mooi woorde oopkrap My klip-lippe inspan Om lofprysings te sing. Maar voor ek my kon kry Slaan alles toe soos ‘n boek. Ek sit myself laaste op die lys, Seker omdat ek self ‘n ma is En weerloos oop voor al my eie foute staan. (12 April 2015) As dit … Continue reading tweestryd
School holidays in our home were happy times. I allowed the children to build blanket houses underneath the dining room table and Lego cities all over the lounge carpet, tables and chair armrests. Days would go by with them playing, continuing their stories, army attacks and space missions. Then, out of the blue it would … Continue reading sanity
mens moenie so ontevrede wees met jou seisoen nie as jy weer kyk is als verby en dan is jy werklik gelukkig, as jy ná die tyd kan sê dit is goed ek moes iets leer 10 November 2014 Ek kan nie sê dat ek ma ooit verstaan het nie, en tussen ons lê dae, … Continue reading woorde
You stood at the gate. Unexpected. And in one instant I knew something was very wrong. My brain grabbed bits and pieces and tried to make sense. Your eyes called me closer to the gate. I heard my own words falling and bouncing, but it was the tone of your voice that pulled me into … Continue reading the accident…8 May 2014
The Beginning We build our own prisons, and carry them around. We bang our heads against heavy bars, and silently cry out for help. Some manipulative moves force us to our knees and we become immovable objects, trapped in the misery of our circumstance. I felt like a caged bird. Trapped. Powerless. What does it … Continue reading powerless
