Wednesday, April 11, 2012


I took my friend's mother to the hospital yesterday for chemotherapy. It was a perfect day. Mild and autumnal. She said that she hadn't been outdoors in weeks, how strange it felt. I could see that every little movement hurt. I can't imagine what it must be like: not to be able to climb a step, not to be able to stand up and rush off somewhere. Well-used phrases came to mind - being a shadow of your former self.

Today my throat is tight when I think of her world, but there is intensity in things: every sip of coffee, the smell of the mango I ate for breakfast, a walk to the post office to pick up a parcel of books, wonderful books. And much of what bothered me before seems insignificant.


Petro said...


Ek was gister by 'n vriend se roudiens. Selfmoord.
En vandag kyk ek ook meer intens na alles.

Soms verstaan ek so min.

The Sourcerer said...

ag Petro.
baie jammer om dit te hoor.

Marlette Compion-Venter said...

Ek waardeer heirdie post verskriklik baie vandag. Dankie vir jou eerlikheid en emosie.

fiona jean said...

beautiful post

The Sourcerer said...

thank you Fee,
dankie Marlette.