Category Archives: My Family

My dad runs. #fact

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It hit me the other day when I saw a photograph of my dad that there’s a part of his life that I know nothing about. To get you up to speed: my dad is a fireman by day/night and in his free time, he builds houses, landscapes gardens, feeds the birds and has an enormous love for wildlife.

He’s also a runner. I’ve known this for all my life and in fact, just recently he ran the 2009 Two Oceans Half Marathon. But it’s the running stories from 20 years ago which are a complete blank to me.

It’s Comrades week and as many of my close friends prepare to run the biggest race on South Africa’s race calendar, I suddenly remembered that my dad has run Comrades. He has also completed Iron Man. Twice. This was many years ago. But still.

(I’ve promised myself to do a separate blog post on his achievements and I’ve already tasked my mom to pull out any photos of my dad.)

I’ve never shared stories with him. I don’t know what he went through, his experiences, his running trials and tribulations. In fact, since I’ve started to run, I mainly get my running tips and motivation from KK and other running buddies. Yet, I’m sure my dad has lots to share.

I know that at the time when he was running, I was young, in primary school and perhaps didn’t take much interest then. I wish I had. I wish I thought about running then like I do now. I wish I had paid more attention.

I’m going to stop telling people that I am a newbie runner and instead announce: “the running gene runs in my family”. Because it does.

Keeping up with wonderful women

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I am incredibly blessed to have a group of amazing women in my life. Women who make me sit back and marvel at their lives, things that they do and how they make it look so easy, so simple and so wonderful.

I’m talking about those that are single mothers. How you find the energy to work a full, stressful day in the office and still go home to work a further 12 hour shift and raise the most beautiful, curious and active children is beyond me.

I’m also talking about the beautiful women who make time to ensure their nails are always manicured, their feet are soft and smooth and their legs are shaven. If you pop up at their homes unexpectedly, they look glamorous, even in house clothes.

The women in my life who are the most talented bakers and chefs… women who know flapjack recipes out of their heads. The ones who make a lasagne from scratch when they get home from a busy day at the office, those that bake blue smurf cupcakes for nephews and even some who know the importance of brown onion soup for roast potatoes.

Many of these amazing women are so positive, even through adversity. There are ‘angels’ doing some inspiring work with their families and friends within their church and charities. It’s a real honour to know them and that they expect nothing in return.

When I think of the women in my life, I am also referring to the gym bunnies. The runners. The ones who eat healthily and who are always looking after their bodies. They are always up for a challenge and who are fearless.

I love the women in my life who make me laugh. The catch up suppers where we can share a vegetarian platter of meze but order meatballs and calamari on the side. The women who will sit and listen to hours of me analysing my running victories and failures and never grow tired of me moaning.

I smile as I think about the ones that I’ve known for more than half my life. The ones who’ve stood by me through high school, my 20’s and now into my 30’s. But also those I’ve met only recently and who know me so well.

There are those I go to for advise, some who fill my laughter tank, others who have wonderful adventures to share. Some are good for hugs. Others who never hold back when I need a stern lecture and to set me back on course when I need it most.

But most of all, all of these amazing women in my life are precious and remind me constantly to be grateful to have them there, everyday. Thank-you!

*Dedicated to my mom, sister and all the girlfriends in my life who I love & adore!

Admit it. We’re all sick in the head. But that’s okay.

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An email arrived in my mailbox alerting me to the fact that 3rd December is “International Day of Persons with Disabilities”. I somehow scoffed at this because in my mind, society has not yet caught up with what I believe is the real disability crippling people, families and teams today.

Most people will tell you that when they think of disabilities, they think of those who have physical disabilities – the blind, the deaf, people who are in wheelchairs etc. Yet I am of the opinion that the biggest ‘disability’ facing most of us today is a mental one.

The world we live in has become a tough place. It’s a harsh cruel, ever-changing environment and unless you have your wits about you, it will eat you alive and spit you out. But then again, who does have their wits about them? Who is on top of things? Who’s coping? Not many in my opinion…

When I consider my family, my friends and my colleagues, majority of them do not know if they are coming or going. The levels of stress that are in each of our lives is massive and for most, just getting through the day is a challenge.

I work with colleagues who are too afraid to admit they are not coping. They would rather drown and have no work life balance than ask for help. I find it particularly difficult to watch single mothers battle the way they do. I find it tough to see executives in high positions struggling to lead. At this time of year, stats show that 1 in 5 matriculants think about suicide when writing their final exams.

Worse of all is that I find my own family members thinking they are all alone in this world with problems and issues as big as mountains on their shoulders and ready to quit. *cries*

The levels of stress that we are constantly under and the pressure on us to perform and cope are enormous. People (and their families) living with mental illnesses, such as depression, is an incredibly painful burden to bear and the strain is enormous. It can affect a person’s ability to work, form relationships, and destroy their quality of life.

Ironically, it’s much easier and acceptable to tell people you are blind, than admit that you are not coping. I don’t think that society has moved into a place where people will put up their hands and readily admit to needing help. And it’s especially difficult in the corporate sector where you will be labelled and considered weak and incompetent if you do. The stigma is career-limiting so people are reluctant to admit they have a problem.

Mental illness may take on many forms, and is far more prevalent in our society than we may care to admit. However, many people lack concrete knowledge about it. It gets swept under the carpet. Ignored.

That’s sad…

It’s easier to just make you a cuppa tea

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I’m not comfortable dealing with old or sick people. To this day, I am still racked with guilt that I did not have it in my heart to bath my gran when she was still alive. Instead, I made tea.

So while my sister bathed my gran, even to the point of giving her a pedi, I knew that once she was done, I would sit at the kitchen table with tea and Marie Biscuits, listening to her talk for hours. It’s the least I could do…

On Saturday, my sister and I went to visit a close friend of the family who has recently been diagnosed with a brain tumour. Having “survived” lung cancer, she has now been told by her doctor to ‘get her affairs in order’ and consider moving into a frail care facility.

Not having seen her for many years, it was wonderful that as we walked through the door to her room in the hospital that she recognised us and was so happy to see us. Within a few minutes, we were chatting about work, life, reminiscing about the good old times and joking about the doctors.

As it always does, the conversation gets to those awkward silences. I was strangely nervous, uncomfortable. I had so many questions but kept quiet.

I’m just going to say what I was thinking…

How do you ask someone who’s dying how long they’ve got? Do you even bring something like that up in conversation? Do you ask such questions? And then what do you say?  Is it my place to ask?

I have an analytical mind. I like to work things out, make sense of things, plan ahead, knowing what we’re in for. But without the facts, I hate sitting around in total darkness, not knowing what to do.

So we chatted and chatted (actually, it was my sister that did most of it) and we laughed, even making jokes about her tumour. And eventually we left.

I have no idea when I will see her again or if this will be the last time that I do?

It feels like I should be doing something. But do what? And if I haven’t made an effort for so long, would it appear false?

Do I just walk away now and wait? That sounds terrible. Heartless…

I feel so helpless. It feels as if I have so many unanswered questions.

It’s so much easier to make tea.