Always an answer

By Drum Digital
03 April 2015

Gogo Johanna was the family problem-solver.

“Mealtimes are awful,”Thandi wailed on. “All three of them spend most of the time staring into that mirror you bought and complaining and being depressed.”

“I’m so sorry, dear,” I murmured again, feeling guilty since the mirror was my bright idea. “Let me have a little think about it.”

My husband chose that moment to walk through the door, taking off his gardening gloves. He’s a keen gardener now that he’s retired. And I have to admit his roses are beautiful. He shook his head. “It’s about time you told her once and for all. At our time of life, you shouldn’t be bothered with all that never-ending nonsense.”

I lifted my chin now and faced my husband of 39 years. I said very firmly, “I need you to listen carefully. I need you to understand this. It makes me happy to feel part of Andile’s family, to be in touch with their daily lives, their problems and their joys. It makes me feel like I am still involved, still part of the circle of life. I wouldn’t want it any other way. So please let me be, okay? Don’t try to stop me!”

For a moment, my husband looked at me in surprise. Then he smiled – the smile I have known and loved for 39 years.

“That’s my girl,” he said. “You stick up for yourself! Don’t let anyone push you around. Not even me.” It’s at moments like these when I remember why I married him – and why we have managed to stay together, even through the rough times. He put his arm around me and led me to the kitchen where he washed his hands and then made me a nice cup of tea. While I sat having a little think about Olona’s longing for a tonguering and Emmanuel’s acne panic and Jacob’s newly-developed sensitivity about his nose.

There’s always an answer, that’s my motto. I just have to find it.

The end...

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