Rocking to nature's beat

Suds on hands

Whilst I have a dishwasher that does all the chores of a full domestic the cooking today did not require too much cleaning up as I made a stir fry. The beauty of that is you’re in and out of the kitchen in just 20 minutes or less.

To clean up, I had a frying pan, a ladle, a spatula, a dish, a fork, and a tumbler. All that could be handwashed and left to dry on the dish drainer, without ruining my manicure. However, as I turned on the tap and squirted washing up liquid on the sponge, I began to rock from foot to foot.

Rock my baby

Brian would know what that means, the fact that I can be so pressed when I am in the kitchen and rather than drop everything even as my bladder is bursting for immediate relief, the apparent rocking motion appears to buy me time to finish what I am doing before I literally have to run to the gents.

I sometimes wonder why my anxiety for release almost seems like a personal test of stupid endurance to no other end than to present possible embarrassment, if I wet my pants. Much as I have determined that I should just respond as nature calls, the rocking movement still offers some unexplained satisfaction. Is it the child in me afraid to ask to do what I need to do?

334 days of heartache

Time took longer to endure

Never could we have anticipated that when we said our goodbyes in Johannesburg in January, it would be another 334 days before we saw each other again to say hello and kiss again. We were still in the infancy of our relationship building up our commitments with the determination that we were going to get married soon.

It is quite likely we could have made that decision earlier, we knew our hearts and minds about what we were looking for and what we wanted, but in the normalcy of those times, we were giving ourselves all the opportunities and allowances to steadily make that move without having too many misgivings from our friends about the speed at which we were going at a lifelong commitment.

For a while, I heard repeated statement of Isabelle Allende to the question she was asked, “How do you fall in love at 76?”, her answer was, “Like 26, but with a little more urgency.” I am aware of the life-threatening condition I had over 11 years ago, I am grateful for the quality and goodness of my health today, yet, I cannot live like I have all the time in the world.

We are getting married

I have now, the moments, the opportunities that arise, and the options that present. I fell in love and I have pursued it with vigour and conscientiousness. I am more than fortunate that my partner feels the same way too. Back in July, I was proposed to and it is our hope that despite the situation with the pandemic, we indeed can tie the knot.

If we have learnt anything, every moment counts, what we do whilst we are together matters, it should be purposeful, fulfilling, and rewarding. Long-distance relationships are hard at the best of times. I hope we never have to wait for an extended period of time to see each other again. Meanwhile, every one of the 35 days we will spend together will be a celebration of love, happiness, smiles, and life. I have been gifted the joy of companionship; we will not let it slip listless away. Thank you, Brian, for being the one, I am so blessed to have you in my life and by my side.