2020: 49

Friday, the 13th of November.

7 x 7 = 49
This here above is what happens in my head every single time I see the number 49. Really. The product of learning times tables in standard 1 / grade 3 on repeat and being drilled on it.

Image by Dirk Wohlrabe from Pixabay

My maternal ‘baby’ cousin turned 30 today. She is entering her 4th decade on the globe. I’m in my 5th decade. Do you think about your age like that? I thought about it like that today. Wow. Wow. And wow. I had a lovely conversation with a 24 year old at the small gathering. Insightful. Revelationary. Compassionate. It was a delightful experience. I was taught a few things about myself. I have thought about a few things about myself.

Back to the birthday girl. She was tiny when she was born. I was in standard 7 / grade 9 on the day she was born. It was a strange day for me because I woke up with the thought that she will be born on that day. I got to school and was told another person I know has his birthday on that day and it felt like confirmation. When I got home the afternoon we got the news that she was born. KLS. Tiny, she could fit in a show box. Life hasn’t been without obstacles;
life has also been beautiful and blessed thus far.
It will bloom forward.
New decades bring interesting changes.

You are valuable. You are worthy. Know that. Remember that. Live accordingly. Go out into the world. Dream and ask big.

Her birthday always reminds me of my maternal grandmother. For several reasons. It was a difficult time for my Ouma. Her mind was going through challenges and it was particular hard at that point in time. A time and space that Oupa and their children had to navigate. I learnt a lot in the space and time and through their navigation. It’s not something people talked about. It didn’t have a name that I knew of. I found out years later what it’s called. The ups and downs. I found my own way in that space and time to connect with Ouma. Listening to the stories that she was telling. Learning when it was clear or when it was cloudy. Stepping in when it was necessary … when it became my turn … when I was older of course.

Image by congerdesign from Pixabay

There was so much love in all the above. The love of family. The intentional navigation to get to a place where love is felt again. The intentionality sprouting from the love that drives the connection. As a child I didn’t know, but I felt it. It’s a beautiful, marvellous feeling. Love lives here.

It wasn’t heavy coz it is love.

Rest. It’s weekend.

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