ikhaya lam

   Winter 1968 Wat is beter: om te weet jou pa gaan dood of om hom onverwags te verloor? So wonder ek en my neef nou die dag. 'n Ander niggie, wie se pa onverwags weg is, reken sy sou enigiets gee vir nog net een gesprek, vir die kans om te kan afskeid neem. Ek sê ek weet nie. My pa (middel agter op die foto hierbo) is dood ná twee maande in 'n hoësorgeenheid. Hy het sy hoeveelste hartaanval oorleef en sou moes terug hospitaal toe vir 'n hartomleiding wanneer hy sterk genoeg was. Een keer was dit ámper. 'n Dominee in 'n bruin poliësterpak roep my eenkant toe in die intensiewe eenheid. Hy wil weet of daar iets fout is tussen my en my pa. Ek voel oorbluf. Ek kan nie sien waarop die gesprek afstuur nie. Die magswanbalans tussen outoriteitsfiguur en sestienjarige laat my onseker staan. Nee, hoekom? Want dit lyk of jou pa nie wíl lewe nie, sê hy. Ek steek die geheim weg dat ek en my pa baklei. Dat ons nooit praat oor my dooie ma (heel regs op foto bo) nie. Dat hy drink e...

Even the vet cried when I told her about Hannes . She'd spent so much time with him at the practice, she said. When he was first brought there as a foundling and again after the mauling incident - he became her after-hours companion. He even boarded for a weekend when he was between vaccinations and our usual kennels wouldn't take him. The veterinary staff knew him well, my little people-loving purr-machine. I had sent a message with a selection of photos to the receptionist after he died, but the news hadn't reached the vet, so it was left to me to break it to her this morning. Of course her wet eyes yanked at my own heartache and I came home with a lingering nostalgia, the longing reignited. Maybe it was too soon to get another kitten. He's not the same and I don't expect him to be the same. I deliberately chose a feline as different from Hannes as possible. Stoffel is a long-haired ginger kitten from Montagu whose owner is lea...

dit brand soos ‘n pyl in my. Die mense sien daar niks nie van, en die Here alleen die weet wat ek ly. Die dae kom en die nagte gaan; die skadu’s word lank en weer kort; die drywerstem van my werk weerklink, en ek gaan op my kruisweg vort. https://gedigteboom.co.za/totius/o-die-pyn-gedagte/     I know at least seven women who have lost a child.    I, myself, managed to lose someone else's child.    "How do you do that?" I hear you ask.    You take in a six-year old when his mother's life falls apart and you keep him until he reaches high school, after which the arrangement becomes permanent and one day you realise you've become a single step-parent to a teenager. When you divorce his father many years later, you also lose the only "child" you'd ever known.    That is how you lose someone else's child.   It was not until I found Buurman that the possibility of a human baby crossed my mind. The Bulldog ...