Day 170

Lights and Shadows

She runs 4.14km in 32 minutes, at the end of the hot hot day, running through the meadow, the half-moon following her trail, the cool breeze bathing her flushed face, her long braid dividing its time between her elbows, brushing each one in turn as it raises in time with the opposite leg.

The child lives every day in the moment, whether it be summer or winter.  Here it is, sunshine, hot!  Beach day, riding in the back of the station wagon with her best friend, lying in the dogbox the whole way home, telling secrets, giggling, singing songs they love, perfectly in harmony, their voices and their beings.  Or here it is, rain, cold wind.  Foggy mountain shrouded, wet socks at school, misery riding her bike home, hot cocoa made especially for her by her dad, the best cocoa in the world, sweetened with honey.  She doesn't really compare seasons, or notice time passing, she just wakes up each morning and does all the lovely things, reading and eating good food, riding her bike and playing with her friend, and the not so wonderful things, going to school, homework, fighting with her brother.  She just can't wait for the summer holidays, and they go on forever, and she cries each January 15th or 16th when she has to go back to school, that first day is always the saddest day of her life.

Now, in her 55th year, she is utterly aware of time passing, she notes the seasons, is always conscious of the hours in the day, not being enough, going too fast, how just a little while ago she had twin babies and now they are almost eighteen years old.   She washes the muddy pond-water off the dog with the hose, gets willingly sopping wet when the dog shakes herself, panting and looking like a black seal.  She is happily barefoot and bare-armed in the summer heat, and is astonished at the memory of the water being stiff and hard inside the hose just a few months ago, snow and ice where there is now abundant green, weeds and leaves and growth everywhere, when just yesterday, it seems, she had to put on a hundred layers just to venture outside for her daily run or walk in sub-zero temperatures. 

She remembers that it is Father's Day tomorrow, her husband's 26th.  She met him when her girls were little, they taught at the same school, Nombulelo.  He was just a boy, 24 years old, and lovely.  They became friends. 

How he won her heart, without her even realising it, was one day when she was very sick with a bad cold.  At school he told her that she should go straight to bed when she got home.  She turned on him angrily, saying, "How am I supposed to go to bed with two little girls to take care of?", but when she arrived home she did actually lie on her bed, feeling awful, after telling her daughters to play quietly.  She must have fallen asleep when Emma came in to cheerfully tell her that Tim had arrived and was playing with them.  She slept gratefully as Emma periodically came into the bedroom to inform her that Tim had given them their tea, then that Tim had given them supper, then that Tim was seeing to their bath, then he came in to tell her that he was having trouble with Jessica's nappy, because every time he stood her up it fell down around her ankles!  So she went in and they all laughed and she showed him how to do it properly, and then flopped back into bed, and as she drifted off to sleep she could hear him reading them a story, and the next thing she knew it was early morning and Jess and Emma had crawled into bed with her sometime during the night, and she was all better!

Sometime later in the year, they got together as a couple.  Although they could never just be a couple, because there were two little girls involved.  So he said that the three of them made up his "package deal".  How lucky they all were to find him, this man who restored their faith in men.

And much much later they had two more babies at the same time!  And always, since his commitment all that time ago, he has been the best dad, loving each one, always ready with patience, with sympathy and understanding, with laughter, with a glass of water when they are weeping (which is his cure for crying and most of the time actually works).  Reading long books like Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter aloud each night for years, writing and illustrating stories for them, watching videos with them, explaining the plot when they didn't understand, teaching them to swim in the pool and the sea, teaching them Maths, teaching them all how to ride a bike, how to drive a car, how to live in the world.

So here is an image of his strong arms around all of them, his arms that grew bigger and bigger as needed, and are still growing.  Happy Father's Day!