I grew up in a rather close family enviroment with my folks, my older sister and younger brother. There is a 2 year gap between my sister and me and 8 years to my younger brother. Us siblings are a very tight unit.
We were not a wealthy family by any means and money always seemed to be an issue, although we, as kids never wanted for anything, my folks would do anything within their means for us. My grandfather died when my dad was 8 as a direct result of alcoholism so my dad never had a real father figure to mould himself around.
My dad used to have a terrible temper but he was not a drinker. Regardless of the reason for his anger, it was very real and very scarey. When he went on one of his rampages, doors would be kicked in etc etc. As I grew older I started standing up to him so as to take the attention off my sister and brother and took the beating instead. His weapon of choice was a leather strap (I cut it into small little pieces when I was 13). Through all of these years my mother was a pillar of strength to us kids. She took special care to encourage me in all things because I bore the brunt of it. She would spend quiet time with me and she would read from the bible. Her faith was very strong.
After finishing my schooling, I went to do my "national service" in the SAAF and then moved to Joburg to pursue my career in IT.
One night I got back to the place I was staying where a message was waiting for me. I was to call home immediately. When I did my uncle answered the phone saying that I was to come home straight away, my mother was dead. She had commited suicide.
This was ten at night and home was a 5 1/2 hour drive away. So drive I did, I drove like a man possessed, screaming my head off.......crying so hard I couldn't see the road. Heaven only knows how I made it in one piece.
The police had taken her body away by the time I got there. She had shot herself in the bathroom and had tied a towel around her neck so as not to make too much of a mess, she was thinking of others even in her last desperate hours.
I had to go and identify her body at the police mortuary (again to save my remaining family the trauma) and the sight that I saw that day was just too horrible to put into words. I see it now as I write, it is as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. It has haunted me since. I have been drinking heavily since.
Coincidence.....I think not.
Sorry for being so long winded.....I am not used to writing such long pieces about this particular topic.
We were not a wealthy family by any means and money always seemed to be an issue, although we, as kids never wanted for anything, my folks would do anything within their means for us. My grandfather died when my dad was 8 as a direct result of alcoholism so my dad never had a real father figure to mould himself around.
My dad used to have a terrible temper but he was not a drinker. Regardless of the reason for his anger, it was very real and very scarey. When he went on one of his rampages, doors would be kicked in etc etc. As I grew older I started standing up to him so as to take the attention off my sister and brother and took the beating instead. His weapon of choice was a leather strap (I cut it into small little pieces when I was 13). Through all of these years my mother was a pillar of strength to us kids. She took special care to encourage me in all things because I bore the brunt of it. She would spend quiet time with me and she would read from the bible. Her faith was very strong.
After finishing my schooling, I went to do my "national service" in the SAAF and then moved to Joburg to pursue my career in IT.
One night I got back to the place I was staying where a message was waiting for me. I was to call home immediately. When I did my uncle answered the phone saying that I was to come home straight away, my mother was dead. She had commited suicide.
This was ten at night and home was a 5 1/2 hour drive away. So drive I did, I drove like a man possessed, screaming my head off.......crying so hard I couldn't see the road. Heaven only knows how I made it in one piece.
The police had taken her body away by the time I got there. She had shot herself in the bathroom and had tied a towel around her neck so as not to make too much of a mess, she was thinking of others even in her last desperate hours.
I had to go and identify her body at the police mortuary (again to save my remaining family the trauma) and the sight that I saw that day was just too horrible to put into words. I see it now as I write, it is as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. It has haunted me since. I have been drinking heavily since.
Coincidence.....I think not.
Sorry for being so long winded.....I am not used to writing such long pieces about this particular topic.
life is like an onion, peel of one layer and somtimes we weep.
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