I was looking forward to Saturday - M was coming to visit. I knew M before I met her because her reputation as a gifted teacher of reading was well known in the Pinetown and Durban area. I think I actually met her between her office and the photostat machine room at Browns School, but we were acquainted for a long time before I thrust myself, a five month old baby and a sister, on her gracious hospitality at her home in Pretoria, so I could do my Masters practical. Because of M my sister is called Aunty Poppet, a lovely name M affectionately calls her own sister.
For some reason, M remained willing to be in contact, and for the last year or so we have played scrabble nearly every day. Being a gifted reading teacher gives her the edge, right up to the middle. (scrabble has kept me sane, and put me in touch via FB with some old and valued friends and family. You know who you are.) Poor M though was not aware I think, that she was going to be all my family and friends wrapped up in one. It's a burden but this time she really did represent Home.
I enjoyed her company for herself though, and with the young PS sailing cancelled, we were free to stroll Salamanca Market unfettered, and then we walked up the Big Stairs to the quaint little village of Battery Point. We shared a delicious lunch at Jackman's served by a young waiter with some entertainment value. M asked open honest questions about the cancer and woke up Lady Serenity form her ice bucket when her eyes filled with tears. To my shame I cooly ignored those kind tears but I had to, or the waiter would have had to scrape me off the floor.
We walked on and back thorugh Hobart. It was a warm sunny day, and the air was nice. I took M back home and after a cuppa and a rest we took Charlie (the dog this time) for a long walk along Blackman's Bay. I reminded myself of a thought I had had a few days before, that we have come to live in a very beautiful place. Which just goes to show that if you land with your bum in the bucket, your boobs fall off!.
I think we were both exhausted, because after DH's delicious calamari stew, and M's yummy gift of bread, we each stretched out on a couch with a blanket and chatted away until it was time to take M back to the hotel. Friends are wonderful and become like family, and family become like friends - and this really shows up when you are far away and in a spot of bother. I felt sad that I was unable to contact my dear friend J who has been through so much with me. She lives in the whoop whoop for internet contact. But I know that she was praying for me anyway.
Sunday saw me so exhausted I could barely move. DH and I had a worry flashpoint when it occurred to both of us that fatigue is a symptom of advanced cancer. I prayed about that. We got on with the day.
Monday was Regatta day, so a public holiday. I wanted to go to the Wooden Boat festival, and the dutiful family bowed to my cancerous desires. It was a mistake, except we stopped off first to buy me some lovely expensive scarves fom the garden and gift shop on the corner of Melville Street. By the end of the day DH was the only serene one, and we were all thoroughly fed up with each other. DH valiantly scoured the town for our supper, and at the last bite of my pizza a bit of the crust stabbed me in the soft palate and gave me something else to think about other than my impending birthday. The sleeping tablet took me through to 5 am.
No comments:
Post a Comment