Now let me tell you. To say chow, cheers and goodbye to someone that you know for almost your whole life, sucks, if I can say it like it is, with no tact at all. This past week, I experienced one of those chow, cheers and goodbye days again. The first time that I realised how much it sucked to say chow, cheers and goodbye, was in 2017, when my mom completed her race on earth. Only then did I realise what death really means and entails.
The other time was in 2021. When I had to greet my sister Erika, her husband Jaco and their two children, 580 times (ok not really that much, but it was a lot of times) before they finally left Pretoria to immigrate to New Zealand. To me it felt like I would never, ever, see them in real life, ever again. Never ever. Because I know how expensive it is to travel back and forth. For them and for us.
Well, Tuesday 25 April 2023 marks another chow, cheers and goodbye day. When I had to greet the same brother-in-law (or heavy as we translated swaer directly from Afrikaans to English), after a short visit to South-Africa. On 6 April 2023, he slept over at our house for one night. My instructions to Dora was to get the house spick and span. Everything must be packed away. The floors washed. Everything that could be scrubbed clean, was scrubbed. The house dogs’ blankets were washed. Linnen spray was being sprayed, probably much too often, to ensure that the house smells fresh and nice.
I even purchased new bedside tables for our room, because that is where Jaco was going to sleep that night. I could not let him sleep in a room with lamps that had hanging heads. The lamps had fallen and broken over time, and I just never got round to replacing them. Purely because I could not find something that I liked and seemed to be more durable than the broken ones that were in our bedroom. None the less, that was a very good excuse to replace them even if it was for one night’s stay only.
The one night that he slept over, that feels like months ago, but in reality it was only 2 and half weeks ago on Tuesday, the last day that we got to see him, before he returned to New Zealand. When I read this previous sentence, it did not quite make sense. What I meant to say was, on Tuesday, the last day that we saw him, it was only two and a half weeks before, that he slept over for one evening. I did not want to let him go that first time, so that he can go to his sister in Brits. I did what I could to stretch the visit for as long as I could. Tuesday it was the same thing. The three of us (myself, Jaco and my husband Heinrich) had a lovely Impala coffee while we visited with him like old times. During the conversation, all three of us looked at our watches, hoping the others would not notice it. Knowing that the chow, cheers and goodbye time is slowly creeping closer and closer. We even walked through Impala, just to avoid that moment that we all knew was due to arrive. But then, the unavoidable happened. We all had to part our ways. Jaco had to go to Pretoria and we had to go back to our daily routine of work and collecting kids from school.
I decided to ask for a last in person photo with Jaco, even if it was in the parking area. Heinrich rolled his eyes at me and asked me how many photos I still want to take and have, and whether I want to take another picture, because I am dressed up a bit more than usual? He takes my phone to take the picture. After the photo, we greet for a last time. We cannot prevent the tears from welling up in our eyes. We give each other a hug more than once. Just to be sure that we remember what it feels like to give fleshy hugs to each other. A man passes us in the parking area, probably to do his shopping at Impala, looking at us strangely, especially when I turned away from Jaco after greeting him, with tears in my eyes. I knew if Jaco and I kept eye-contact, we would have cried even more.
I realise more and more how God had to split my sisters and I up, over continents and provinces, so that we can talk to each other more frequently. My other sister left Centurion for Riversdal, while the eldest and her husband Jaco, exchanged South Africa for New Zealand. How ironic is life? You only appreciate someone when they are no longer within your reach. Pretoria is not far from Skeerpoort, yet we did not visit each other that frequently when they were in Pretoria. Before kids, it was well the case, we visited more frequently, but, as time passed, adding little feet to each of our families, the visits started to become less and less….
I was grateful for each second I had with Jaco. Even if it was not as much as I had hoped for, it is still something I will treasure in my heart for ever. Erika and Jaco – I miss you guys more than you will ever know. Like everything in life that is hard for me to process, I try not to think about it the whole time. Because, if I do, then I will be this miserable heap of tears and crying the whole time! One cannot help but to be sad from longing for people that you have known your whole life!
Until we see each other again. Hopefully soon. I pray that our ship will come in and that we will not be waiting at the airport, missing it in the process! I know my brother-in-law for 28 years. Old people know each other for 28 years. Neither him nor I feel old, so I am scrapping that saying of old people who know each other that long. It was an honour to host you for one evening and to be able to see you for a quick cup of coffee, before you had to travel back over the waters to your new home. Travel safely, I am treasuring the conversations and fleshy hugs until we can do that again. By the time this entry is published, you will have arrived safely back in New Zealand….that is how quick time flies and how easy it actually is to travel that far! Love you to the moon and back. Miss you like crazy!
