The house that Karl built

THIS IS THE HOUSE THAT KARL BUILT

I met Karl 35 years ago.  Hubby's youngest brother. Party animal and speed freak. Husband and soon to be father.  Cordon Blue chef and top of his class in flower arranging.  A man I found hard to understand and even harder to bond with.  Then again, at that time I was not much more than a teenager and not tuned in at all to look deeper than skin deep.


Then, about 15 years ago, while my family was going through a very traumatic time, Karl came to visit and I immediately realised that this was no longer the party animal and speed freak he used to be.  Here was a man I could understand and bond with.  Suddenly I had a brother-in-law that felt like family.  There was a depth to him that I could not find in any of my other siblings-in-law.  This was no longer the rebel of 15 years earlier.


Now, my father believed that every man should at least once in his lifetime, build a house. It is an outdated idea in modern times, but in my father's time it meant that by building a house for his family, the man provides for his family.  A house was not just a construction of bricks and mortar.  It was a haven of safety to run to from the threats of a dangerous world.  It was a warm hearth to return to when the icy winds of life threatened to freeze the very soul out of you.  A place to go for nourishment when life itself threatened to starve the heart.  It was a man's way of providing all that his family needed.


This morning I am sitting in the house that Karl built.  The bricks and mortar  construction, that is.  A beautiful place set in a beautiful garden in beautiful surroundings.  However, not the house, not the garden, nor the surrounding are as beautiful as the man that my party animal, speed freak, brother-in-law had become over the years... the wonderful husband, the wonderful father and the wonderful friend.


This afternoon we will say our final farewells to him at his funeral service.  Am I sad?  Of course I am sad that he will never again give me Clivia plants for my birthday, or challenge me to a day of walking, walking, walking, and more walking around the Albert and Victoria Waterfront, yet I also find a measure of joy in his passing, for what changed the party animal and speed freak of 35 year ago into the man I came to love, admire and respect over the past 15 years, was his close relationship with our Lord, and I know that this morning he is in the presence of the Source of Eternal Life... receiving his rewards for building that house for his family and friends to return to and shelter in.

Roadtrip - Across the Nyl

I never intended this blog to be a sad place and maybe that is the true reason why I have so seldomly posted during this year.  

The year so far has been a very sad and difficult year for us.  It started with Hubby being seriously ill and it took him months to recover and fact of the matter is that he will not regain his health completely.  Then my sister's youngest son had a massive stroke.  He survived the stroke but will never be able to resume his normal life.  Just last month, my eldest brother's wife passed away very suddenly at the age of 71.  At work, during this time, we have also lost four people that I have worked with for the past 20 odd years and a friend that worked with me a couple of years ago, lost her only child in a car crash.  It just never seem to stop!  The newest blow came yesterday morning when Hubby's youngest brother passed away after cancer was diagnosed just two months ago.

However, to survive the blows that life delivers so harshly, I have learned through the years to look for and concentrate on the positive in any situation, so I will do the same in our current situation.

We were planning on going down to the Cape in September to visit all the family so on hearing the sad news yesterday, we decided to take the trip now so that we can attend Kallies's funeral.  This decision now leaves me sitting at my friend's house in Pretoria on the way down to Cape Town.  Due to Hubby's health we will travel down to the Cape in four stages and I plan to keep you updated on this road trip as we go along.

We left Naboomspruit at 14:00 yesterday and I do not have much to tell you about that part of the trip.  I will just show you one photo taken along the way.  About thirty kilometers out of Naboom, this is the view you get just before crossing the Nylsvlei Floodplain. This is Kranskop.  A beacon to all who travel the N1 highway through Limpopo. 

(Left Click to enlarge)

It is a lone standing hill about 30 kilometers South of Naboomspruit.  It is alongside the Nylsvlei floodplain and legend has it that when the Voortrekkers saw it for the first time, the Nylsvlei was flooded and they believed it to be one of the pyramids alongside the Nile River.  On the left hand side of the photo the typical reed-like grass that you find all along the floodplain can clearly be seen.


Although the actual reason for our trip down to the Cape is a sad one, I cannot help being very excited about it.  I love road trips and I am going to visit my favourite part of the country (not counting the Bushveldt).  I am looking forward to the mountains, the forests and the sea... not to mention all the dear wonderful people we will be visiting... all the more dear to me as this year, so far, has taught me that life is very fragile and there are no guarantees that there will be a "until next time".


PS:  Went out with our dear friends Steve and Rina last night to a Dross restaurant and had one of the best steaks I have ever had.  What would life be without the Steves and Rinas to lift our spirits?

A little eagle called Liza

The 5^th day of July 1977 dawned as just another ordinary day in the life of a young wife and soon to be mother.  With two weeks left to the arrival of her firstborn, and with a string of visitors behind her, this al too human kind of human decided this at last the perfect time to spring clean her house and get everything shipshape for the arrival of her baby.

Now those who have walked this path before will know:  Babies cannot read and therefore pay no attention to calendars or dates.  At twenty minutes past nine that very night, a tiny bit of humanity rushed into this world to change her mother’s life forever.  This very human kind of new mother was suddenly confronted with the knowledge that her life and heart (not to mention her belongings, but that came a bit later) would never belong to herself again.

The tiny bit of humanity soon became a little person called Liza and quickly made it clear that she would never be ordinary (maybe the red hair had something to do with it).  Although a very friendly baby, I quickly realised that Liza had an unusually serious side to her that would develop into an unusually independent, strong and determined character.

The story of the eagle that was hatched in the chicken’s nest and spent the first few weeks of his life with the chickens are known to most.  He never felt quite comfortable and at home with the cute, fluffy, yellow little chicks and often felt left out until one day he looked up and saw an eagle soar above.  On trying to spread his wings and fly, like the eagle overhead, he discovered that he was indeed an eagle and was never meant to peck around in the dirt here below like the cute, fluffy, yellow chicks around him.  He took off and never looked back.

Liza is the human eagle of that story.  Although fully involved in school life and whatever it had to offer, she always stood out as an individual.  Not given to giving in to peer-pressure of any kind, she was never really accepted into the giggling circles of girls with only the vision of marriage and family in their future.  She never became one of the cute, fluffy, yellow little chicks.  She was always the baby eagle just waiting for her opportunity to soar.

After school, she found herself in situations where she did not feel comfortable, yet she never allowed it to clip her wings.  She simply kept on exercising those wings until she found the upward current that would help her to ride the currents and soar the skies.  Once she found that current, she for ever left behind the cute, fluffy, yellow little chicks scratching around in the dirt.

Today wings of another kind will carry her off to Switzerland where she has recently been appointed in a post that will place her that one step closer to her dream.  I know that she has asked her sister how “Mommy” really feels about her leaving to live so far away and here I want to tell her how “Mommy” feels.

Ouma Breggie (another one that could have soared if only she had the opportunity) taught “Mommy” that children did not owe their parents anything; however, they owed everything that their parents did for them, to their children.  So “Mommy” feels that you should take the little strength that you have inherited from your parents (the eagles, not the chickens), add your own and soar to the highest heights that you are capable off.  In the spirit, “Mommy” will be right up there with her beautiful eagle, riding the currents of pride and joy; in body, she will be right here at home, waiting to catch you, should you decide to land for a rest.

(Truth is, I want to catch you, clip your wings and lock you up in a cage and never let you go, but that would be selfish, now wouldn’t it?)