These rambles may have revealed a number of things about me, mostly that I am anxious and that I tend to overthink. Especially if I find myself with idle time… or if someone does not answer my text. Especially ones that are direct questions. I ALWAYS assume that that person is angry with me. And I can ALWAYS think up something that I have done to deserve this passive-aggressive behaviour.
Turns out, however, people are busy, people have lives and the whole world does not revolve around me. Also, some people don’t read and I really do ask a lot of questions. The Engineer has recently requested that I only send one question at a time.
A little more than two years ago we did some home renovations and extensions. The architect that was commissioned for the job came for the initial meeting to hear about our dreams and our budget. I later however realised that this was a spying session, because the first renders that came back were filled with wineracks and bookshelves. He had summed me up nicely. I was in love with his plan. I am easy that way.
Long story short, we ended up with a beautiful foyer and for almost two years I have been confused about what should go there.
Eventually I decided on interesting doors. I got this idea from a restaurant in Cape Town that has a huge artwork with different doors. I started my search on the various image banks and collected my own. These were then all printed on small A5 canvases. I also like the symbolism associated with doors:
Moving through difficulties or challenges
Entering into new spaces
Suggesting opportunities
Leaving sadness or loss
Transition
New beginnings
A threshold or boundary at which two places meet
The Engineer left me to my own devices in figuring out how these should go up. I had a plan, but I have to see things before I can commit. I commenced with A5 sheets and masking tape, to try and visualize the whole thing.
The doors went up, and in my opinion looked gorgeous. Little did I know…
So lesson 1: mounting tape works fine but not if it is in your entryway and you see it from the side if you walk in.
Lesson 2: canvas borders should be black
Lesson 3: A level is your friend. The Afrikaans word is “waterpas”, isn’t it beautiful?
Lesson 4: sometimes there is a reason why you marry the engineer in the first place
So two months after this whole project, we realised that there is some water damage. In comes the insurance assessor and a team of builders and down goes my doors again.
After a few days of chaos and waiting for things to dry, the doors can go up again, but the engineer offers to do it this time. Where I did things with masking tape and paper, he sits down at his computer and writes 39 lines of code. On the screen is a render of my piano, the light switch and my 18 images… and he is moving things closer and further apart by the click of a button. So yes, you can be annoyed and grateful at the same time.
This time the canvasses went up with nails, so that they could be flush against the wall. I also painted the canvas borders black.
Perhaps the lesson here, is that you have to get it completely wrong the first time, to get it perfect the second time around. Or maybe, that we should all just play to our strengths and admit that we have weaknesses.
I am a social animal who also likes my own company from time to time. When I was blessed to become the mother of the Lilliputians four years ago, I suddenly realised, that this is the gig that never packs up to go home. It never ends. So the Engineer, probably for fear of a family murder committed by his sleep-deprived wife, suggested that I take a break and go out with a friend. Enters date night. Although, that was date day, because my beautiful cousin came to whisk me away for a nail appointment and some wine.
Since that date, four years ago, I have been trying to do this once a month, with my tribe. The group has become a little smaller over time, because I realised that sometimes I set these dinners due to guilt. Of course lockdown also interrupted my little tradition when we were not allowed to see anyone, but finally, the tradition lives on.
And it is never fancy. It is lunch or dinner, with someone whom I love, somewhere that I love. And yes, there’s usually wine. I think maybe because they are not brave enough for solo-me without it.
There have been double dinners, where I get two friends to come along. And there have been plans for many in the future. There have even been friends who now set them among each other as well.
These appointments have taught me a few beautiful lessons:
They support my slogan of only taking with me that which inspires me. I am inspired by these friends every time.
Conversations are different when they are one-on-one. Also, when there’s not a needy 4-year-old spilling juice on the labrador.
Every single person is struggling with something.
I am blessed with beautiful, wise, funny friends (even if some are family), whom I enjoy spending time with.
It’s OK if you don’t speak every day, friendships can survive some silence too.
I think maybe the most important lesson in these solo outings is that I am not defined by my marriage, or my mothering, or my job, or qualifications, my deafness, or the challenges and joys in my life. I am a product of a journey, and this is also evident in my dinner guests. Some I’ve known since first grade and some I have only met recently. Some studied with me and some worked with me.
If you have been following these rambles, you will know that a dear friend of mine, passed away a little more than a month ago. She was one of my date night regulars. So tomorrow morning I am going for breakfast with one of her friends, whom I hardly know. But even, in her absence, a new friendship is born, where what we have in common (for now) is that which we have lost.
I run a small publishing company that specialises in peer-reviewed medical journals. Needless to say, I am not a medical professional, but I am a publishing professional. Not a day goes by where I don’t feel that I have to tell some medical specialist that sure, they can transplant a heart, but they cannot reference their way out of a paper bag. That is why we do not all do the same things. That is why I have a business and you transplant hearts.
And yes, I feel that I should add a section to my blog titled “rant”.
I have been wanting to write about this for a few days now, but have not been able to… get it right, somehow. A friend passed away in the early hours of the 12th of July and as these things go, I have had to go through a few emotions. And although I still want to dedicate a post to her, this is not that post.
Yes, it was sudden. Yes, she was too young. No, I don’t know what happened. She was a little sick, and then became very sick, but it was unexpected. Yes, we spoke every day. No, it is certainly not my grief and loss alone, but the process of grieving has left me lost at sea.
