Today I wept…

I wept for my dear sister whose husband decided he didn’t love her anymore after many, many years of marriage… for their little girl… for my parents, they’ve lost a son…

I wept for my in-laws as I realised the pain they carry with them everyday when they remember their dead son…

I wept for a colleague whose husband was shot in the face… and a friend who lost a loved one to a botched up car hi-jacking…

I wept for my child because I can’t be sure that she has a future in South Africa, that she will find her place here…

I wept because I miss all my friends who have left South Africa, either for work, to follow a dream, to be with their beloved, or because they just couldn’t take living in South Africa anymore…

I wept because a deacon at the church where my child will be baptised reminded me that I’m a white Portuguese South Africa, the descendant of the perpetrators of slavery, and by simply being a white South Africa, a perpetrator of Apartheid. I’m tired of the guilt.

I wept for a friend who lives a life of quiet desperation, wanting to do so much more… but doesn’t… I wept when I realised I’m like that too…

I wept for the Earth, because not many people seem to give a damn about the fact that she’s suffering at our hands… I wept at the realisation that I’m not doing enough to change that…

I wept at my own sense of failure – as a mother, a career woman, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a home maker, a cook, a gardener, a labyrinth maker, a knitter, an artist…

I wept as I accepted that I’m capable of hurting people, very deeply… and sometimes I don’t even realise I’ve done it…

I wept for I am no longer the maiden, I am now the mother.

I wept because I don’t know where my soul is… or how to connect to it anymore…

I wept…

It was a good day… a day of release…

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