Archives for posts with tag: Unconditional love

SPECIAL FRIEND
For months I have wanted to write something about friendship,about my once in a lifetime friendship, but time and space weren’t availing themselves,even words, until this morning when I came across this post on the “interpretation of true friendship”.

1992, the year I started High School, 12 years of age,  a little knob kneed, shy yet talkative, and wide eyed. The place and year I would meet my best friend. We were in the same Form A class and I did not like her one bit. She was rowdy, naughty and just plain irritating.She was every teacher’s worst nightmare,mine too.And there was not a day I did not go home to my mother moaning about this girl in class who just made my blood boil. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but she had quitened down, seemed shy, decent, respectful, all the things she never appeared to be at first, and she had become part of my group of friends. Did I mention how pretty she was? She was a lot chubbier than I, very dark and very beautiful, with the smoothest buttery skin I had ever seen. I had a typical teenage acne face, so drooling at her prettiness and perfection of her skin were the order of the day.

Months passed, years went by, and our friendship got tighter and tighter. Both our families loved our friendship and revelled about how mutually happy we were. We were young and carefree, so we would spend hours and hours on the phone, we would talk before an event about the clothes we were going to wear, and always insisted that they were similar clothes, just like twins would dress. And typically, if we were going to a musical concert or party, we would always opt for denim jeans (in the color of the day), white baggy shirts and some high top sneakers or ballerina flats. To our parents delight, we were not typical teenagers, we didn’t experiment with alcohol or drugs, we were not into parties, or rather we were not allowed to go to parties except once or twice, and would attend an awkward one or two music festival, where we would get to see most of our favourite artists of the time perform.

Boys were also some sort of mystery to us.Yes, we had boyfriends but as much as I don’t think we ever talked about it, boyfriends to us were just that….Friends that were boys, who were just “supposed” to enjoy and share in our interests, like going to the movies ,going swimming, enjoying some Saturday or Sunday afternoon ice cream walk, nothing more nothing less. As a result we got disappeared on/dumped a lot, hahahahaha, because we were just “not up to the required standard”, no making out, no kissing (yuck), and obviously no funky-monkey-dance.

After our fourth year of high school (in 1995 I believe) I changed schools, and went to study outside the country, in a town some odd 100’s of kilometres away,made new friends, and if my memory serves we well, that’s when our friendship started to show some cracks. I would be with the new friends sharing our experiences at the time and my dear old friend would feel out of place because she somehow felt cut out from the rest of the group. Something she took time to point out, but when she eventually did, I made a serious effort to acccomodate her.

Life went on, distance still a factor, but our friendship still intact, she met a boy, they were besotted with each other,in love,and they were serious but I didn’t really like his obnoxious tendencies, she didn’t like that I had other close friendships and wanted me all to herself and the cracks became bigger crevices. More distance got added to the equation, and the next thing I know we are not sharing each other’s lives, triumphs, joys, downs, dreams and crazyness as we used to. Both our families were unhappy at this turn of events, because they had seen how much positivity and love we brought to each other’s lives, how genuine and pure our bond was, but alas.
REAL FRIEND

We were very similar, but very different. We shared the same principles and values, but had vastly different outlooks on life and love I suppose. I am a free spirit.I had other friendships which brought different aspects of life, into my life, but by no means at the expense of what she and I had.To me she was a friend, a mentor, a confidante, the sister I never had, and for that reason I never questioned our bond, our love, despite who came in and out of our lives. She and I have never had the time to explore what really happened with us, but I believe she questioned, her faith in us waivered, and she let the comings and goings of other people in my life determine the future of what she and I had, our sisterhood. Had she known and believed in us, she would have known that she was and she still is the sister I never had.

Both married with families and kids of our own, years of possible memories and achievements lost between us, but I pray someday soon I will write a more positive post about the crazyness our now 30+ old selves haven gotten into, like serious-hurt-your-belly-roll-on-the-floor-laughs we used to have at each other’s problems,before we could get to the serious business of playing Nancy Drew, trying to unravel the mistery that is our lives and problems.

GIRL  shenanigans<

Feisty and maddening with her stubbornness at times, I will forever love her and cherish the love,honesty and sincerety we shared……..My once in a lifetime true friendship!

It started a few days back.For the first time in my 30 plus odd years, I have been incessantly missing someone, a very special person. Someone I have never known, and someone I have never had.

Someone that could be my best friend, my confidante,fashion adviser and critic. Someone who could be my best love, but whose boyfriends I could have chased away by my stupid childhood/youthful tactics. Someone who could literally knock some sense in my head and we would still love each other regardless.Someone whose make up I would steal, whose clothes I would “borrow”, without their knowledge,but who would love me regardless.

Those that have them say  it’s not always easy having them.I guess it may be the classic case of wishing for that which I do not have.

Big sister ribbon from Pinterest.

Big sister ribbon from Pinterest.


Photo from Pinterest

Photo from Pinterest

I wish I had a sister. An older sister.A taller, prettier, lovelier, more
athletic,better cook…….all things wonderful, version of me. I think we could have been the best of friends. I strongly believe she would have been someone to look up to, someone worthy of admiration and respect. A person of substance, and someone I could definitely bounce noble ideas off, get some advice about life from, and get properly and objectively rebuked for my stupidity shortcomings.

I wonder what she would look like. A spitting image of “our” parents? Very pretty? Not? Would she have a sense of humor? That would be aaaawesome.

“Good morning, how is the big boy doing this morning?”

Me, thinking aloud, “Huuh, on my cellphone, this is the treatment i get? No asking how I, the mother of the big boy is doing?”

“Hai soka uena, ke etsa’ng ka uena”?….literally meaning, “get away, what use are you to me”?

Those were the sweet, kind and loving words exchanged between mother and daughter earlier today.My mother and I have always been on super good terms to say the least, well, except for the days in my childhood when I wished she wasn’t my mother.Those days when she would whip the crap out of me for doing some stupid thing or other (of which there was plenty), back in the day when whipping your own child was Aokay. In fact, the most absolute normal thing to do, to instill some discipine in this little scoundrel, when talking had failed. When disciplining your child didn’t call for the justice and children’s rights court to convene hastily at the Hague #Rollseyes#.

As I was saying, my mother and I’s relationship has had always been cordial and loving. All that seemed to change from the moment I announced to her that I was 6 weeks into incubating the little seed growing inside me.She kind of became apathetic towards me, and started directing all her love and attention towards my tummy. I reaped the benefits of course,as she used to buy me dried fruits, popcorn (my love), fruit juices, all cravings good, emphasising that they were not for me, but for the benefit of the foetus.Huh?

Now that I do not get to indulge in the treats she used to feed MY seed through me, despite MY rather loud protests that “the boy will still get the benefits of the food through breastmilk”. I am nonetheless spared from making endless and expensive trips to the shops to buy baby clothes as granny is always “inadvertently” ready to buy something cute or warm for her little man.Gone are the days when I, the only child used to be showered with a spur of the moment purchase of a scarf or a cute little dress.The little old lady is totally engrossed with the 3.5 toothed man.

Granny and "the other" Teletubby!

Granny and “the other” Teletubby!


I never really thought I would understand,when my parents,  mostly my mother, would utter words like, “you are still young my child, one day when you are a parent,you will understand”.

Yip, that train is here, it has finally arrived and I can now say, “I understand mom”. I understand, that I will never understand the intricate,inexplicable amount of love I have for the boy, or the deep seated fears, anxiety I have of grooming him to be a wonderful and God fearing human being.

What shocks me is the love and pure joy I see on my mother’s face when she sees or talks about the boy, worse the pain etched in her voice whenever she cannot be with him. She is my mother, she still loves me of course, and I am very happy there is someone else who loves my son unconditionally and wholeheartedly, outside of his daddy and myself.

I think I would first have to be a granny, to test-drive the capacity, my capacity for that much love for a grandchild, but hey, I’m not in a hurry.