Perhaps when you get older, you have a new sense of yesterday. Perhaps you imagine a yesterday that wasn’t truly your reality…. or perhaps like me your yesterday was filled with a magic dragon, living on a patch of moss behind the garage, tea parties by myself with naartjies pretending to be cake with blue icing sugar. Or making little lines in the sand for my cars (rocks). My childhood has a little church build in the backyard by my Oupa Mike, a church he that he saw during the war and build a replica off. How special my dark haired Cindy doll was (I never did like blonde anyting, my Oupa said blonde woman looked like their colour washed off) attending church, en so. Very proper. No sex before marriage or any of that.
On Saturdays Oupa Mike and I would go shopping at Mimi’s. A tiny little shop that sold anything from fishing tackle to dolls clothes… and I would get money to buy tiny nappies for my babies or a Dolly Parton LP (all my dolls were named Jolene)… Ouma Chrissie always made macaroni with cheese with bullybeef for lunch on Saturday. I hated it. Tannie Letta always came to visit. She was Ouma’s sister in law and she was a proper lady. I liked her. She was actually English.
Her husband, I cannot remember his name (maybe Frans?) and Oupa’s other brother who resembled Santa Clause who apparently married often (twice – I’ve really pushed that family record) would join Oupa and we would go to the Potchefstroom rugby club. Oupa and his brothers would watch, shout from the sideline. Oupa would have exactly one whiskey afterwards and I would have Creme Soda and then we would go home. I played with the coach’s son, Sam as I didn’t care much for rugby but the strawberry blonde Sam was at the same school as me, in the same grade, but we only ever spoke at rugby. When Oupa was older they gave him an honourary membership to Potch Dorp rugby plague that he very proudly displayed. They called him their greatest supporter. 🙂 Funny thing is he played soccer until late in his 40’s, not rugby. LOL
I loved my grandparents more than life itself, and I miss them daily…. I see things I want to share with them, I meet people I want to tell them about, I experience life and I want to point and laugh with them. I am grateful for wonderful, loving, delightful, sweet, child-like admiration memories. 🙂
This is the tattoo I have on the top of my back for my grandparents, based on one of my favourite poems:
“I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.” – E. E. Cummings
As ek net meer kan droom
Van die wind in die takke
Van die ou wilgerboom op die plaas
Ek sal alles verruil om weer Sondag na kerk
Saam met Remi te huil vir oulaas
Ek wens ek sien weer vir die eerste keer die suiderkruis
Ek wens my oupa kan weer Halley se komeet uitwys
Soos ‘n kindjie na ‘n kinderbybel prentjie kyk
Wil ek vir oulaas weer die stofreen op die grondpad ruik
Kan Pinocchio asseblief nou uit daai walvis klim
As Heidi se oupa net sy snor wil trim
Ek wens ek kan Neels Holgerson laat beter voel
Ek wens die reen wil weer die grondpad op die plaas verspoel
Mamma kook vir ons bokmelk vanaand
Smelt vir ons kaas in die pan
Vertel vir my weer hoe kry Heidi so seer
En waar kom Tautau vandaan
As ek net weer kan glo
Soos ‘n kind kan vertrou
Daar is engele daar bo wat ons bless
As ek net weer kan kyk
Hoe die vlei begin loop
En hoe jou mielies weer mooi lyk John West
Is Remi se apie dan dood
Of speel hy nogsteed toneel
Pa is Nonna al terug
Is dit reen in die lug
Of het ek myself weer verbeel
Nocturnal Wenchy 
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