I should start by saying this post is brought to you compliments of Eskom (a state utility in South Africa). Not.
You see, in South Africa we are plunged into darkness every other day because of an energy crisis… Eskom is apparently addressing this challenge.
Sigh.
So here I am, listening to the sound of my neighbour’s generator, and thinking about my birthday in a few days time.
I love August.
No, not because it’s my birthday month, but it’s still winter. Although our coastal town is not subjected to sub zero temperatures or snow, we have our fair share of chilly, grey skies. And what better excuse to stay indoors and have a duvet day 🙂
Winter for me = what better season to invoke contemplation!
I’m quite excited about my birthday this year because it’s the first time in 16 years that I’ll get to spend it with my mum. About that “mysterious” number, let’s just say that I’m over the age of consent and still a few years shy of a retirement village. Apparently, I don’t look my age. That’s always like music to my ears, especially when I’m with my younger sister.
Back to my excitement.
Working away from home for all that time was good while it lasted. However, there comes a time when one realises what matters the most. As i write this, I’m so thankful that my mum has her health and wits about her; that she doesn’t miss a beat to tell me when I’m wrong or give me one of her “I told you so looks”.
The fact that I’m starting to sound just like her scares and excites me; I’m sure the ladies reading this will understand. But, my favourite thing (and this I treasure the older I get) is coming home from work after a hectic day and smelling her perfume as I open the door. The scent offers me a sense of peace and security that comes from the unconditional love and support that only a mum brings. It also transports me back to my primary school days (long, long ago) when I’d get home and she’d be there.
My rock. My strength. My world.
We’ve had our fair share of disagreements and ugly-cry moments but I wouldn’t want my life’s script to play out any other way. If I could be half the wife or mother that she’s been then I’d consider myself blessed.
P.S every single time I see St Joseph’s Lilies, I am reminded of the wonderful woman I get to call mum.
Thank you for taking the time to read.
Stay fabulous & favoured xxx
