Lockdown: I've lost count of the day

CS Lewis writes, “There is a kind of happiness that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes.” I didn’t get that for a long time but I do now.

Lockdown has become bright and bearable overnight and I’ve become even more happy and content in my life. My mum has been living with me for two weeks now and as much as she can drive me nuts sometimes, there is just no place I’d rather be than with her most days.

Our time together has been filled with fun and long drawn out chats about the past mainly. She talks in circles and has been revealing a lot about her relationship with my father in recent days. We talk about sex; boys; men; love; life; hurts; happiness; fears; purpose; health; achievements; careers; mistakes; regret - the list is epic.

I work a full five days from Monday to Friday now and professionally, I am in my element. The early morning shifts don’t come with no challenges but living with my mother and conditioning her sleep routine has been tough. I’ve also realised that I cannot control everything and so I consciously don’t.

I go on dates, kindly say goodbye to the ones who are obviously mean or rude and I kiss the ones I like. I’ve also met more friends at restaurants, visited a market, had a wax, cut my hair, and have done my nails these past two weeks. And I feel even more beautiful because the neurotic ninja in me has calmed down considerably and I’ve become braver during this pandemic.

I’ve also learned not to freak out when the kitchen floor is a mess, or when the basin in the bathroom still has food stuck to it because my 77-year-old mother, who battles dementia, forgets to rinse it. I’ve learned that hugs are important and that rubbing Amla in my mother’s hair gives her pleasure. I’ve learned that when I correct my mother she sees this a rebuke and she feels worthless because of it. I’ve learned to correct her less because what does it matter anyway if she uses my lipstick and puts it in her room? I can take it back without her even noticing. Her weird habits, truthfully speaking, can sometimes make you want to throw up in your mouth, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. My interaction with this woman has evolved into a relationship so wonderful in my adulthood, I fear losing her. I know I’m not meant to fear but there is a tiny part of me that has FOMO. I want to be around her all the time.

And part of that nurturing side of me is probably a result of me realizing that my ovaries are not getting any younger. I flirt almost casually with thoughts of my own kids materializing someday and then I console myself by saying all the things I want to believe but sometimes don’t. That the world is overpopulated; I will probably never be able to read a whole book if I have kids; my life will never be the same. I am wrestling. I am wrestling with myself about a future that’s so uncertain.

But then I actively observe my mother for a few minutes to shift my insecurity into positive thoughts.

From the time my eyes open until I creep into her room to see if she’s breathing, until the time she closes her eyes I am reminded to be present.

To not think too far ahead and not dwell on yesterday. The happiness I am feeling now is just too beautiful to waste. So while I am a tad anxious about the future. I am very aware of the blessings that I’m living and what’s manifesting in my life right now. I am holding straw and weaving gold.

I do believe that God will honour what’s in my hand because I am choosing to honour my job and all the purpose that flows from it.

That song, “One foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other,” rings true this evening. I am stepping to the rhythm of my own heartbeat. And the melody is coming straight from within my grateful soul.

Vinay runs a 21km.

Roshan Bhai, Maggy and I are privileged to witness his milestone.

My Run Like A Girl Fourways group of ladies.