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A Million Beautiful Pieces February 7, 2019

Should siblings be responsible for each other? And if so, is that okay?

Savannah loves this photo of her with her siblings.

When parenting a child with a disability many people offer advice or opinions from their perspective of what would be best for a family like ours. People are not shy to give voice to the potential problems which they believe we face. Specifically, people assume that when non disabled siblings are raised with a sibling with a disability, it will cause some level of hardship in some way to the non disabled sibling. The idea that non disabled siblings will be responsible for their disabled sibling, is frowned upon. This blog post, like most posts that I write, is about giving insight into our lives in the hope of giving other families the vocabulary to speak their truth.

When Michael and I became pregnant with our second child Talisa, we had no fears about anything concerning the new baby. It might have been due to my new-found faith or it might have been that I was still in the honeymoon phase of my marriage. When Talisa was born unlike her elder sister, she was not a person with a disability. She was a demanding baby though and tested my resolve in many ways. But I was happy to have two children. We were very hopeful about the future for our family.

Sadly few people shared our delight. Some people thought that they should educate me about all the problems Talisa was going to experience because of her relation to Savannah. One person thought that Talisa would likely have poor speech because Savannah had a speech impediment. Another piece of unsolicited advice was that it was very unfair to Talisa to be born into a family with a person with a disability as she would be “burdened” with her sister. Someone else suggested that I should limit the time that the girls spent together. The list goes on.

Eli shares Savannah’s passion for gorillas. She was in awe of the wind-up gorilla toy he gave her for Christmas.

In hindsight I think most people were expressing their own fears about parenting a child with a disability. Of course, it was challenging. Especially in the early days when in many areas of development, Savannah and Talisa were on the same level. Even though there was a six-year age gap between them. While adjusting to mothering two girls with different demands, I was also trying to learn all about Savannah’s diagnosis. Savannah was a diagnosed with cerebral palsy. She was non speaking and had other issues that I could not quite understand. She was only diagnosed as being an autistic person when she eight years old. I can only describe the first three years of Talisa’s life as the ‘twilight years’.

By the time Eli came along we were a little more settled as a family unit. Both girls were besotted with him. Together all three formed their own unique relationship. I know many of my friends who have a child with a disability and non disabled children, often testify that having more than one child is the best thing they did. For those parents who choose to only parent their child with a disability, I understand that too. Raising children today is demanding in many ways, and at different times I struggled with the demands of being a parent. More so I struggled with the enormity of Savannah’s special needs. Please do not ask me if it is better to have more children or not after having a child with a disability. There is no better or worse when it comes to children. It is just about working out how to be the best for yourself and for your child or children.

Talisa reminds me that some things are not deep psychological issues. Some things are just what siblings do.

So fast forward to the present day, when Savannah is twenty-two years old, Talisa is sixteen years old and Eli is eleven years old. Talisa and Eli have some responsibility for Savannah. I was aware when both children began assuming certain areas of care for her. While those old voices sometimes echoed in my mind that my younger children shouldn’t be responsible for their sister, my children kept me in check.

My first check was a few years ago when Talisa spoke at an awareness event. She said that she does not often tell people she has a sister who is a person with a disability because she does not want to hear “Oh shame.” She continued to explain that when she meets the non disabled siblings of friends, she never responds with “Oh, shame”. She is a cheeky girl. Her point simply being that Savannah is just her sister like all other sibling relationships. While their relationship has different nuances to most siblings, she does not appreciate that “Oh, shame” is the response it should elicit.

A few more checks came as Eli grew. Being a boy, he easily slips into the role of protector. He enjoys teaching Savannah pranks and jokes. He helps her with: tying her shoelaces to assisting her with her communication software to exercising with her. When Michael is late in returning home, Eli helps Savannah with her bed time routine. (She does not stay asleep whenever I help her to bed, and somehow sleeps better when Michael or Eli put her to bed). I had to stop thanking him for what he does when he asked me to “stop making their sibling stuff awkward with my mum stuff”.

In homes like ours, where one person is vulnerable and will remain so for the rest of their lives, the levels of care and protection that develop between the family members are unique and precious. Few people outside this type of dynamic will understand it. We are always thinking about what might be too much for the non disabled siblings as far as being responsible goes, against what is vital to building strong sibling bonds. For many families siblings are more trustworthy than a professional care giver or another adult. In truth, one day they will be the only people who will oversee the care of their sibling with a disability.

This week as Savannah began her new therapy program, we created a group on WhatsApp for the team so that we can easily transfer information between home and therapy. Both Talisa and Eli are included in that group. As her siblings they share all her milestone moments with her as well as her day-to-day life. It is offensive to them when they are excluded from important areas of Savannah’s life. Talisa asked me once why people make a big deal about her role in Savannah’s future? She said that most siblings have some level of care and loyalty towards each other. How can anyone expect her to be detached from Savannah’s life when they both become adults?

Little brother is watching. Eli keeps a watch on Savannah’s YouTube browsing.

In raising our children, we did not heed the advice of anyone who thought that Savannah would be a burden to her siblings. We simply raised children in a home with a family that loved each other. Like all children, Talisa and Eli go through all the usual issues and triumphs of life as they grow. They have their own challenges, their own dreams and their own goals. Unlike other children they learnt a little something about tolerance and patience early in life. I think the best lesson they learnt is about accepting people for who they are. They are not angels or better than other children. They are simply siblings who get to understand loyalty and love much quicker than most.

For all parents of children with disabilities, we live with a constant fearful thought that we try to ignore. What will happen to our vulnerable children when we die? When we have more than one child, none of our children will be alone in the world. Especially our child with a disability.

Each family is different and every sibling deserves a life that is true to who they are. As parents we are responsible for building that life. Please think about that when you meet a family raising both disabled and non disabled children.

If you found this post helpful, you might also enjoy reading about Being Courageous Even In Uncertainty.

A Million Beautiful Pieces January 15, 2019

Back-To-School: How You Start Is How You Finish

I have not written a blog for two weeks. And now here I am. I feel rather delighted with the quiet time I had and with all that I have achieved in these two weeks. One aspect that took up most of my time was my investment in my children’s back-to-school preparations. That required focused time and attention from me. It is such an important part of my year that even my Christmas preparations can’t compare. Why? Well, because I am a big believer in “how you start is how you finish”.

My hope is for my children to aim for the highest version of themselves with self-respect and self-love.

In the days leading up to the first day of the new school year, we (being Michael and I) encourage our children not only to start getting to bed a little earlier; we also coach them into thinking about what personal goals they want to set for themselves for the year ahead. Our back-to-school preparation includes providing our children with: a safe space to face their fears, plant their hopes and to acknowledge what supports they already have for the challenges that the year will bring.

One of those challenges for our family is when Savannah has a medical flare up. This happens at anytime during the year. Sometimes she is admitted to hospital and that means our family routines change drastically. Both Talisa and Eli know what it feels like to face an important exam or event while feeling worried about their sisters’ health. It would be neglectful of us to assume that the concerns we deal with regarding Savannah do not make an impression on Talisa and Eli. Anxiety is a real issue for teenagers and too often they are not taught helpful ways to deal with this. Anxiety in teens:What it looks like and strategies to help from Parent24 offers some insight into this topic.

In our home, Michael and I have a golden rule all year round but most especially during the month of January: we ensure that we are available to Talisa and Eli to listen to anything they have to say. We believe that “how you start is how you finish” and we want them to start strong. What they are saying or not saying as they begin the daily school grind are markers that guide us on how best to support them. We know that as teenagers our children need us to listen more and to lecture less. Sometimes that can be really hard to do as parents. An educational psychologist has been part of our parenting journey at different times and we value the process that we went on with them in helping us to help a specific child at a specific time.

Savannah being autistic meant that our then educational psychologist had her work cut out for her in teaching us neuro-typical parents a totally different way of thinking about parenting. We learnt how our emotions affected Savannah when we did not understand what she needed. We learnt that we caused more anxiety if we indulged ourselves with unbridled expressions of emotions. It only exacerbated the issue at hand as Savannah’s anxiety increased and we became part of the problem when we should have been part of the solution. We learnt how to express ourselves in a way that became supportive to Savannah without any outbursts from her or us. You could say, having learnt to respect our child’s right to a space that is calm and patient, means that Savannah trained us well for her siblings. 🙂

Generally teenagers are usually more emotional yet less able to express that in a way that will be helpful to themselves. We want Talisa and Eli to feel free to express their fears and hopes without the worry about whether or not it will displease us. We want them to feel brave to go to every corner of their souls to seek out what might be possible for them and to be able to explore those ideas with us. Even if we do not understand it, it is more important for them to feel free to express themselves than for us to limit them to only our own understanding of them and to our dreams for them.

This time of planning, discussing and listening to each other before the school year consumes us is empowering for all of us. Our plan includes our goals, how to achieve that and what supports are available to each family member. I wrote about this last year in my post The Safe House. Each person writes down their personal goals, their academic or career goals, their spiritual goals and we agree on a goal or goals for us as a unit. We talk about what we have written and if necessary we discuss how the family routines or resources will be restructured to support relevant goals. We also write down how we plan to achieve each goal and by when we want to accomplish each goal.

Having a child who is autistic and medically complex means that Michael and I cannot completely plan what she will need during the year. But sharing our goals together means that we are all continuously looking out for each other. Not only are Michael and I mindful of being available to the children and being realistic about what they need; the children too become more involved in how we function as a family. We found that as they naturally assume more responsibility for their sister than she will ever be able to do for them, they also naturally become a support system to each other and in some ways to us a well. This is not a bad thing for children.

We discuss different areas of our lives as we plan for back-to-school. Some areas require more detailed discussions and others may require a less detailed discussion. From having daily routines and acknowledging how each of our routines impact each other, to deciding who we will pursue relationships with and who we will cool off from (if anyone) are all part of these plans for the forthcoming year. We pray for the year ahead and for each other.

Talisa and Eli were all smiles on the first day of the new school year.

During the year Michael and I make a habit of checking in with each other and with the children about their plans. We also celebrate when the children achieve a goal (Michael and I are learning to do the same for ourselves too). At the end of each school year, we review this document. It is empowering to see how much each person achieved. If someone did not achieve a goal we discuss this together. We facilitate a discussion to help our children reflect on themselves for answers as to why they did not achieve a goal. This has been of greater significance for them that we do not accuse them. Ultimately, we want our children to take responsibility for the pursuit of their dreams. We want them to be brave enough to be self-aware of their own shortcomings. Mostly we want them to learn how to pick themselves up and to persevere instead of falling into self-criticism.

During all of this, the very personal goal I set for myself is to be a parent who helps her children to aim for the highest version of themselves with self-respect and self-love.

Next week, I will share more about how I helped my teens get into a positive mindset using an idea I learnt at Journey To You.

A Million Beautiful Pieces January 2, 2019

What You Do Not See In Our Photo Taken On New Years Eve

I share this post with the deepest love for my children, their friends with special needs and the siblings of people with special needs.

It’s not often I write about the challenges that we face as a family with a child with special needs. I prefer not to discuss this so publicly. I know that it is not easy for people living outside of this perspective to fully grasp the love and heartache that co-exists for families like mine.

Yet today I will share this photograph of our fireplace and candles while we waited to usher the New Year in that holds within it more than it shows. It looks warm and cosy. That it was.

Not seen in this photograph was our daughter Savannah who is off camera to the left. She was using her noise cancelling earphones as she tightly crouched on a couch. Curled up in as much as she could make her body curl. Her face was buried in her hands. Her siblings, her dad and I were taking it in turns to hold her. Our neighbourhood erupted in fireworks and boomed their music as the rain poured down until four o’clock in the morning. Even with the noise cancelling earphones everything became too much for Savannah. She was in a panic attack and there was no way for us to stop any of the triggers.

As an autistic person, for Savannah (not all autistic people have the same reactions to the same issues) loud unexpected noises set her heart racing and she falls into a state of panic. She goes into full shutdown and struggles to focus. She needs calm and comfort which after twenty-two years of raising Savannah, we know how to be still and not allow our frustrations to take over. If at all that we even feel that anymore.

It would be easy to say that there are laws in place prohibiting the use of fireworks and that loud music is not allowed after a certain time. However if anything we have learned as a family of a child with special needs is how aggressively most of society feel entitled. It’s such an interesting perspective to parent Savannah. She is actually entitled to so much because of her disability such as a simple matter of being in front when watching a show as she is unable to look over someone’s shoulder. Yet, I still find myself asking people not to stand in front of her wheelchair at events like these.

Or for family and friends who become upset when we don’t visit them or don’t invite them over or can’t attend their event. It is baffling how we are easily cast aside for these reasons because people assume that my life is about them. Travelling with a person in a wheelchair means having enough space for three children in the back seat plus a wheelchair in the boot. We drive a sedan. We can likely carry one small bag which is usually Savannah’s bag of extras. Once that is loaded into the boot, there is nothing else we can pack in. So travelling too far is not an option and Savannah cannot sit upright in a car for too long. Hence we limit our travels to what is comfortable for the whole family. I will not even mention the costs of being a family with someone with special needs.

We invite people over who will not mind getting their own coffee or taking a turn to sit with Savannah if she needs company. I can’t have people over who require formal entertaining and also don’t know when to leave. I am sorry about that. It does not mean that I do not like them as people. In most cases I really do enjoy their company, but the manner in which they define entertaining is not one that will work for me. So in that case, we will likely meet somewhere for coffee for an hour or two.

I am trying to make a living. Now I do that by writing and it is not easy. In addition I work from home which has been my daughter Savannah’s domain as she spends the most time in the house than the rest of the family. It is not easy negotiating emotional and mental space with an adult autistic person who also has a physical disability. I spend much of my daily energy helping Savannah to navigate the world from her unique perspective which often I fall short to understand because I just do not experience life the same way that she does. I also take care of her physical needs like bathing and serving her meals to her. When she is in a meltdown state, she will not eat and then I will feed her.

The world is full of people who have a right to enjoy life because they worked for this right. I do not take anything away from that. Yet true living isn’t made up off what rights we exercise. It is made up of what rights we gave up so that someone who cannot survive in this world alone, may at the very least live a life without further challenges caused by those who have the understanding to know better. For this reason our December was epic. We celebrated the season with amazing people who know that being our friend will be different. Very different but still full of merriment. Ours is the home where there is always a party happening and people connecting while Savannah’s needs are respected. For my friends and family who make that happen, we love you.

So what happened to Savannah as New Year’s erupted around us? Well, the most painful truths are not lost on my other children. As we attempted to usher in the New Year in prayer, Talisa held her sister. When we were finished she played Savannah’s favourite Bollywood songs as loud as possible. Both her and Eli tried their best to distract Savannah with amusing antics. Talisa offered to stay up with Savannah so that Michael and I could go to bed. I thought I did not ask for this nor did Michael, nor did Talisa or Eli; yet here we are. A family who understand what is really important in life. Sitting in front of a fireplace with warmth that no fire could have provided. That was nothing to be sad about. It was something to be grateful for.

I thought about the hundreds of families I know, who at that same time were either holding down their loved ones as they agonised against the loud sounds or fought to break through doors in an attempt to find a safe space or created their own louder sounds to drown out the external noise or lay still after seizures racked their minds and bodies. I thought about the depths of love and heartache we live with and yet the next day our social media posts will only reflect one part of this story.

My posts will never show what challenges we face as Savannah’s family. She does not have seizures or big outbursts that may cause harm to other people. No, our daughter harms herself. In addition due to her physical disability, tension causes her muscles to go into spasm which means that for a day or two, she may not be able to leave her bed without significant help from us. We will never disclose anything that leaves our daughter exposed to a society that seem to know much about life, but so little about living it; so that is the most you will get from me.

I will not share the tough stuff in videos or photographs about our behind the scenes because Savannah cannot exercise her right to privacy and I am the custodian of that. Sharing emotive images will certainly launch my social media profile into a whole new level by telling the story of how disability breaks me wide open and leaves me reeling. That may very well be my right to speak my truth and share my pain. Yet, as I write this and watch my daughter sleep, I know that my rights are forfeit if it causes her harm. Even if she doesn’t know that harm is being done to her. She is unable to protect herself on the internet or tell her side of the story. While she may never know; as human beings our family will enforce every right and carry through every responsibility to protect her rights.

I know this is hard to read, but this is for all those families who are recovering from the New Year celebrations that they were not a part off in the traditional sense. For them and myself I ask this:

Do not speak to us about rights and what people are entitled too.
Do not boast about the one or two times a sacrifice was made to give someone who is vulnerable a better experience.

Simply do this instead:

Live with a consciousness of journeying through this world together. Even if you have to slow your pace to accommodate someone else.
Just as all parents do not want their children to be harmed; please remember that for some of us, our children are children forever. Parents of typically developing children are unlikely to be holding an adult while they are in a full-blown panic attack. So be kind when we leave an event or ask for the noise to be lowered.
Give someone the benefit of the doubt.
Travel light without all the hangups of who did not show up for you.
People need people. Not things.
Forgive and then forgive again. I get to practice this one often.

To all our co-families of children with special needs:
You Rock.

Here is my disclaimer: I asked Talisa to read this post before I published it and I asked her if it was too jarring. She said “Mum, anything we write or say about this will be jarring and people may find it harsh because they just do not get it. But it needs to be out there. In our family we have the space to talk about this but there are so many families who can’t. Publish it.”.

There are many support organisations for people with special needs. I have listed three here. You are welcome to add the links to more organisations in the comments below.

Autism; South Africa

South African Disability Alliance

Down Syndrome South Africa

A Million Beautiful Pieces December 31, 2018

A New Year Has Arrived by Erin Hanson

On this last day of 2018 I am filled with gratitude as I recount the amazing year I’ve had. Turning forty years old has been my year of re-awakening, re-aligning and re-learning. Thank you to the people who blessed my life this year, especially to everyone who follows A Million Beautiful Pieces.

Your likes, shares and recommendations helps to put Faith, Hope and Love into the world. Without your support, I would not be able to use my gifts and my story. You are the Wind Beneath My Wings. Together we will soar through 2019 and make it a year that will count.

I’ve been saving this poem by Erin Hanson just for today. You will want to save this to remind you not to pick up again what you must leave behind in 2018.

Take down all your trouble
And wrap up your regret
Tie them to the rays of light
The sun sheds as it sets.
Whisper all that was
To fleeting seconds as they pass,
But hold onto your hope
For something new is here at last.
Beg your own forgiveness
And then grant it in one breathe,
Lay the year down softly
As it waits to face its death.
Then sit with eye turned skyward
As the night-time comes alive,
All that’s been is over
And a new year has arrived.

-e.h

Happy New Year, my friends. Let’s make 2019 count.

A Million Beautiful Pieces December 27, 2018

My Greatest Gift This Year: Journey To You (part one)

Have you ever felt that you needed the world to stop spinning for five minutes so that you can get off, catch your breath and then jump back on again? I felt that way for a major chunk of my life. Life just kept happening and the resources that I depended on began to wear thin.

Those resources were all the voices that took up space in my head and it was the reason behind my drive. It did not replenish already depleted resources nor did it nourish me so that I could keep going. It just drained me to the point that I had no will to pursue my own dreams and aspirations. Yet I did not know how to replace those resources or even if it could be replaced.

I just knew that it was not serving me.

Myself with Deon Groenewald NLP Coach and CEO of Journey To You

These were my resources:
“You are the eldest, you must hold it together”.
“You are responsible for this. You must fix it.”
“You must look after your parents.”
“You must be responsible for your parents marriage.”
“Your mother needs you. Your daughter needs you. Your husband needs you. Your children need you. Your friend needs you. Your job needs you. This organisation needs you. Your church needs you. You must take care of all this.”
“You are responsible for your marriage.”
“You know that when there is a child with a disability, the marriage is under enormous stress. You must make your marriage work.”
“Your other children will be deprived because they have a sibling with special needs. You must make sure that you don’t neglect them.”
“You are the woman. It’s on you to make it work.” (‘It’ referring to anything and everything about life in general).
“You did this. You must fix it.”
“You must hold the family together.”
It’s exhausting just writing that.

Then fast forward to a few weeks ago when my brother Darren called me after he completed a life coach course at his place of employment. The life coach who conducted his training was hosting one final course from the 19th to the 21st December and Darren was very keen for me to participate in this.

Now I’ve heard of a few people who are really good at teaching about self-care or self-help but nothing ever resonated enough with me to attend any course. I also need the guarantee that when I spend money on myself that could be used towards my daughter Savannah’s care, the value must be spectacular.

Past experiences also taught me to stay away from people who need to ‘give me a word’ or promise to ‘heal my life’ or ‘know a lot about how people think’. The most well-meaning intentions by the most passionate people can cause more damage than good. When a pastor, coach or counsellor does not have the skills, understanding and compassion to help a person through an issue that could potentially cause that person to break, they actually have no business engaging an individual on such a personal level.

What was interesting to me is that my husband shares these same reservations as I do, yet it was him who finally convinced me to register for the course, knowing full well that I would be away from home from 9am to 9pm every day for three days.

On the 19th December as I drove to the course, I was ready to be open to the experience and not to show up for anyone else but myself. I have a reputation of ‘mothering’ people wherever I go and I’m known to be an extrovert. This time I just wanted to be true to what I was feeling during the process. Yes, that it’s..I told myself ‘Trust the process’.

The process I was to trust was ‘Journey To You’ headed by renowned NLP Coach Deon Groenewald. NLP is an acronym for Neuro-Linguistic Programming and Deon has earned himself a reputation as a Master of his field. ‘Journey To You’ is a three-day intensive journey of transformation developed by Deon over a ten-year period. It is designed to help people to effect change from a deep place inside themselves that results in an amazing personal journey.

I knew none of this when I arrived at the course. I did not read the course details because I did not want to go into my self-defence mode. As an over thinker and someone who prepares for every possible outcome, I wanted to let the process guide me instead of the other way round.

As I write this I’m incredibly overwhelmed by what took place over the three days. I learnt so much about the science of how the brain deals with information and how that affects our decision-making process. The pivotal points for me was in understanding my conscious mind and my sub conscious mind, aligning my first reaction and my second reaction, learning how to plan for my goals and in learning to plan a celebration for myself when I achieved a goal.

More than learning these pivotal points in the context of the large group, I was also assigned to a life coach Maligay Govender. Each participant was part of a smaller group led by a qualified coach. It was in my small group that I was taught how to apply what I learnt in the larger group. Maligay made the principles and techniques real for me by guiding me on how to integrate it into my life plan which I had begun to fill out from the morning of Day One.

As I write this and recount the timeline exercise that she did with me, I am filled with emotion. Timeline was the most vulnerable I’ve ever been until then and it was the first time I allowed myself to remember who I was as a child. I actually was able to visualise myself at four years old and to reconnect that person to myself today.

Years ago, my then pastors wife asked me to describe myself. Who was I? It took longer than a month for me to give her an answer that did not include daughter, mother, wife, sister, friend and all the roles I fulfil. When I eventually did give her an answer, I gave her a scripture but it did not describe me. It described someone I wanted to be. As Maligay finished the timeline exercise with me, I realised that I could finally answer that question without all the roles that form part of who I am.

I knew who I was without all the events that shaped me. I liked that person. And I wanted to live with her innocence and her passion again. It was so powerful that I cry even now as I understand what a gift Maligay helped me to find within myself.

Maligay and Bharat Trikam, a fellow change maker

On Day three of ‘Journey to You’, I knew that the moment had come for me to commit myself to a process of understanding how to listen to my own authentic internal voice. With the entire larger group of participants in the room, I courageously volunteered to allow Deon to take me through this process.

I am not going to give the details away of how that was done because I fear I may reduce it’s impact and beauty here. I will share this:

There wasn’t any music to influence what happened.
There wasn’t wild applause or coercion from the other participants.
There were many people in the room including a film crew as this was being recorded for television viewing. Yet the room felt that it was filled to every corner and every space with nothing but goodwill and love.

Deon was respectful of me, never asking me to share more than I was comfortable to share. The key though was that his process did not need for me to bare my soul so that he could rescue me. He only needed me to trust the exercise and to trust myself. I walked off the stage without the anger, resentment, fear and oppressiveness that I carried with me for a long time about my childhood. I walked off that stage with the door to a part of my soul thrown wide open and a feeling of self acceptance, contentment and peace.

Myself and Nadia Marillier, a fellow change maker

At the beginning of this year, I wrote that I entered a Women Empowerment Programme as a gift to myself http://amillionbeautifulpieces.co.za/2018/03/09/entering-competition-title/ . I wanted to give myself one year to experience life on my terms. I resigned from that competition because I realised early on that it was not what I was looking for. As I write this, I feel humbled by how God works. Just before the curtain dropped on 2018, God remembered me and He gave me my ‘Journey To You’.

My heartfelt thank you to Deon Groenwald, to Maligay Govender, to all the coaches; and most especially to my fellow course participants with whom I now share another beautiful piece of life with.

I am blessed I am.

I am grateful I am.

I am Desirae I am.

There is so much more I want to share, so look out for part two of My Greatest Gift This Year.

A Million Beautiful Pieces November 26, 2018

Fictional Short Story: The Women In The Bathroom by Desirae Pillay

(Please note the content and language may be explicit for some readers)

The Women In The Bathroom

Shardha squeezed the Colgate toothpaste on the toothbrush, and hoped that Nandha wouldn’t moan that it wasn’t Aquafresh like they used at home. In her haste to pack their school uniforms and books, she didn’t think about packing toothpaste.

“Nandha, we are going to be late. Hurry up.” She tried to whisper across the passage from the bathroom to the bedroom where her brother and her had slept last night. He was always dragging his feet but she knew after what happened last night, it would be harder for him to get going today.

She could hear her aunty Raksha in the kitchen. Her aunty was newly married to their maternal uncle Mitchell but Shardha and Nandha felt as if they knew her forever. Shardha was grateful that aunty Raksha had the sense to suggest that Nandha and her stay at their home last night.

The night before seemed in one part like a distant memory yet in another part she could remember every word yelled between her parents; when every punch and kick happened and she could still see the madness in her fathers’ eyes as he pounded her mother.

Nandha and her were also yelling and crying; begging him to stop but he just hit their mother harder. Their screams were heard by their neighbours who like so many times before, knew to phone their uncle Mitchell.

Shardha was a pro at calming down her brother enough so that atleast he didn’t make a noise when he cried. Her mother staggered to the bathroom, ignoring the whimpers of her children. Or maybe she was deaf after all the yelling? Shardha found that easier to believe. When uncle Mitchell and aunty Raksha arrived, their father was gone. Shardha opened the door and then the big gate. Her mother was still in the bathroom.

Every time he did this, her father left for a while. Sometimes it was just a few hours. Other times it was weeks before he returned. Then when he came back, it was like nothing happened. Mum and dad would be happy again until the next time she spoke out of turn or forgot to ask his permission before she bought something or who knows what silly things she did to make him angry.

Shardha’s thoughts were interrupted by Nandha. He came into the bathroom, his eyes puffy from crying himself to sleep; and the same terrified look he had the night before. Shardha, handed him his toothbrush and whispered to him to please try to hurry up. Then, quite unexpectedly the bathroom door flung open causing both children to jump with fright. Aunty Raksha stumbled in. She looked away from the children while she leaned over the bath tub and opened the tap.

Shardha thought she saw red on her aunty’s hand but her mind resisted the allusion to what it might be and she tried to dismiss it. But she couldn’t unsee the deep red stream flowing from her aunty’s face, mingling with the water as it cascaded down the drain. She knew, she knew that her aunty was silently crying and a scary idea entered her mind.

Did her father come here and do this to her aunty ? Was he cross that she had taken them with her? Was he in the flat right now? Shardha’s mind was racing as she tried to understand why her aunty was also a woman in the bathroom like her mother.

Just as her confusion was becoming panic, her aunty stood up with a towel over her mouth and nose and said “Shardha go get your lunches from the kitchen. I’ll take Nandha down to the car. Go get your bag, Nandha.” Shardha knew better to ask her aunty anything now. She went to the door, opened it and listened. She couldn’t hear her fathers’ voice. She could only hear her uncle getting ready in his bedroom.

She slipped out of the bathroom and walked slowly down the passage to the kitchen. There were the lunches. She grabbed them and turned back hoping to catch aunty Raksha and Nandha and to walk down with them. As she turned back into the passage, she could hear her uncle talking to his friend from next door. They were on the balcony off the lounge.

Uncle Mitchell sounded so angry. “Bloody bitch. She thinks she is too smart.”

Uncle Mervin asked him “What? Raksha? What happened bru? She wasn’t looking right when I saw her on the stairway now. She having a problem with your sissies kids being here?”

“No f&*%! Not problem with the kids. No, no she likes them. She wanted to bring them last night. My sister and my swaer got into it again. So we brought the children here while they cool off. But this bitch, thinks because we took the children, she can talk about my sissie. This morning she was chuning me that my sissie must think about the children. She said my sissie can’t keep letting the children see this. What the f&*%? She thinks she knows better than my sissie?

Shardha drew a deep breath. Her eyes widened in horror. She knew why aunty Raksha had a bloody nose and mouth. The tears filled her eyes and her throat felt dry and painful.

“I clouted her a solid one. Bloody sh**.”

Uncle Mervin “ Hey bru, sometimes you have to show these things their place. Your wife, you know with her education and all, she needs to be brought down a bit. Good you showed her quickly how to shut the f&*% up. “

“She finally managed to fully open her eyes.”

Shardha tip toed down the passage, not wanting to see her uncle and not wanting to hear anymore. She was just six years old when she understood that nowhere was safe if you were a woman.

Twelve years later, that memory came back to her as clear as day. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear a baby crying. It took her a few seconds to realize that it was her baby that was crying.

Her eyelids felt so heavy as she tried to open it. She became aware of the cold tiles against her cheeks. Then she remembered. He was angry because she left the hotel room to buy food for the baby. She didn’t wait for him to come back.

How could she? The baby was hungry and he was already an hour later than he said he would be. So she raced like a mad woman to buy mash and gravy from Kentucky Fried Chicken. But she was wrong to leave. She knew, she knew it as soon as she opened the hotel room door and saw him glaring at her.

As it all came back to her, she also felt the stabbing ache in her jaw and the burning sensation running through her arms as if it was on fire.

“You bitch. Who did you go to meet?” He fisted her jaw. She went down, landing on the beautiful Italian tiled floor.
“You want other men to look at you? F&*%*#@* whore! Just like your father. You want to sleep around.” Kick to her face but her arms were up trying to block him. She blacked out.

As Shardha remembered what just happened to her, and her baby’s cries became more frantic; she lifted herself onto her elbows, then onto her haunches. She stood up and steadied herself on the wash basin as her head spun.She finally managed to fully open her eyes. She saw herself in the mirror; bloodied and wretched.

Her heart ripped itself in two as it called out to her “When did you become the woman in the bathroom?”

Shock turned to focus. Her baby’s cry sobered her fully as the realisation of the weight of her life came crashing down on her. Her daughter was not going to be like her. Not ever.

She went to her baby. She knew what she had to do. Run.

THE END

Glossary: South African Indian slang particular to Indians who moved from Durban to Johannesburg in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

Bru: Close mate or friend

Swaer: Brother-in-law

Sissie: Sister

Chuning/Chun: Telling/Told