To each life there is a season . . .


I know it’s been a while since my last post and I do apologise for the break but it’s been a very trying few weeks for me.

On 9 October we found out that mom’s cancer has spread to her spine and brain. Doctors decided to reduce the new tumours through radium treatment to ease the pressure on her nerves (the pressure on her nerves caused numbness in her left arm and hand) and doctors felt that if they did not do emergency radium treatment, she would lose feeling in her entire body eventually. So mom was admitted to hospital immediately for a course of 5 treatments with an emergency treatment being done on the same night of admission.

Here’s a picture of mom after her third radium session (just back from radiology department)
Mom after 3rd radium 13.10.2014

Mom was discharged from hospital on Wednesday 15 October and was to return to hospital on Monday 27 October 2014 for a further 6 sessions of radium treatment on her brain. This was not to be. On Monday 27 October 2014 mom lost her fight with cancer. She died peacefully in her sleep in her own bed at home at 14:30.

Today 30 October 2014 we said goodbye to mom at her funeral service.

Mouille Point Lighthouse 30.10.2014

After the funeral service, I took a drive to Mouille Point Lighthouse (one of my favourite places). I stopped along the way to buy a McFlurry (ice cream) at McDonalds remembering how mom could not wait for me to suggest buying a McFlurry after I first introduced her to it. All the memories came flooding back of how we used to buy our ice cream, drive until we found “the perfect spot” to park and enjoy our ice cream while chatting about things.

Oh how I miss you today mom and all the good times we shared. I’m sitting staring at the waves as I’m eating my ice cream and I’m just so sad. I know you’re in a better place mom, free from all the pain, but I miss you.

Your funeral went off just as you would have wanted it to go. Your brother who has held a grudge towards us for more than thirty years came to your funeral today, mom. He refused to be pall bearer when I asked him, but he came to your funeral anyway. When I saw him standing in the doorway, I walked over and thanked him for coming. I asked him if I could get a hug and, guess what mom, he hugged me. I was so shocked I burst into tears immediately. As he hugged me he whispered in my ear “take care of yourself”. This made me cry even more and he hugged me even closer and whispered again “take care of yourself, ok?” As I moved away from him I pointed to Tami [my sister] and he hugged her as well.

Oh mom! Why did this not happen while you were alive? Why did you have to die first for this to happen?

After the funeral service, someone we have not seen for more than 14 years had the audacity to talk to me about how sick dad is and how she thinks he will not make it to the end of the year. Apparently he wanted to come to your funeral but he is too weak (or so she says). So why is this important? Why am I supposed to care? Where was he for the last 14 years or more of our lives? Where was she (supposedly your friend) for the last 14 years or more? Why is it that some people think they can just waltz into your life and tell you what you are supposed to do and how you are supposed to feel?

Without giving me time and the space grieve for my mother, I’m now supposed to feel guilty about my dad who is supposedly so sick? Really?

Someone from dad’s side of the family is now suddenly looking for my telephone number. Why now? Suddenly, after more than fourteen years people suddenly remember that I exist? Where have they been these last fourteen years (or more)? I’ve done well enough for myself without them up to now, why should I let them back into my life now – after all these years?

I’ve now suddenly become the “orphan Annie” to dad’s side of the family. Suddenly they remember that I exist and everybody wants a piece of me now. I’m now is such demand. Wow! I wonder why?

We’ve had so many good times these last few years we have been on our own mom. We saw Tami and Anton getting married. Zac and Zoë being born and growing up into the lovely children they are now – you always said you wanted to live long enough to see your grandchildren and you had that privilege, mom. What wonderful times we have shared as a family.

I’m going to miss our weekly trips to the coffee shops, trying out the various options, exhausting the menu in many instances before moving on to the next one. Birthdays and Christmas (and Easter) will not be the same without you.

I miss you!

Rest in peace dear mom.

You will live on in our hearts forever.


Tapestry Peacock

“Sometimes, we’d love to see the front of the tapestry of our life when the back looks so tangled – but we can trust that He is making a beautiful design with every string in every color.” – Deborah Wuehler, Senior Editor, The Old Schoolhouse Magazine.

This quote has made me think about my own life – currently so tangled but having to trust that the end result will be beautiful with a kaleidoscope of colour.

How will the different threads intertwine?

What will the final design look like?

How many different colours will there be?

From where I stand right now I cannot see the picture clearly. In fact, I don’t see the picture at all except for a haze of just trying to deal with what is being thrown my way daily.


For a planner and organiser it is very difficult to have a plan for the day, knowing that all sorts of twists and turns could creep in and throw the day completely off its axis. I had a day like that this week – where just one incident turned my whole day in a totally different direction.

Life never stays the same, its ever changing, a tapestry of so many experiences (of rich and royal hue). A tapestry of what we’d like to hold on to, but we can’t. We have to move on and adapt to our circumstances. Life goes on, with or without us. Whether we stay where we are or whether we move forward onto new experiences depends entirely on us. Loss and growth is a part of life.

A seed develops into a flower. The flower lives for a given period of time and then dies to make room for other (new) flowers.

A time to live . . . and a time to die . . .


This made me think of a song I heard many years ago which I still love to this day called “Tapestry” written and sung by Carole King. The words of the first verse being applicable to me right now . . .

My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
An everlasting vision of the ever-changing view
A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold
A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold

What does tomorrow hold for me, I wonder?

“Tapestry” as written and sung by Carole King
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

My life has been a tapestry of rich and royal hue
An everlasting vision of the ever-changing view
A wondrous, woven magic in bits of blue and gold
A tapestry to feel and see, impossible to hold

Once amid the soft silver sadness in the sky
There came a man of fortune, a drifter passing by
He wore a torn and tattered cloth around his leathered hide
And a coat of many colors, yellow-green on either side

He moved with some uncertainty, as if he didn’t know
Just what he was there for, or where he ought to go
Once he reached for something golden hanging from a tree
And his hand came down empty

Soon within my tapestry along the rutted road
He sat down on a river rock and turned into a toad
It seemed that he had fallen into someone’s wicked spell
And I wept to see him suffer, though I didn’t know him well

As I watched in sorrow, there suddenly appeared
A figure gray and ghostly beneath a flowing beard
In times of deepest darkness, I’ve seen him dressed in black
Now my tapestry’s unraveling – he’s come to take me back
He’s come to take me back