A Segue into Memories of Childhood

Seeing Dasamaama, memories came flooding back. This uncle, ever-present through my childhood visits to the ancestral home, and his sister were my saviours from boredom. They were the ones who would come home after a long day at work and insist on taking me away from a day spent in my own company wandering through the ample gardens, making up games as I went. Thinking of them evokes memories of orange ice-cream in a neat square on a saucer, a walk along the beach with roasted peanuts in a newspaper cone. The simple pleasures that defined the bulk of Christmas holidays of my childhood.

But he is old now. At 81 he's no longer fleet of foot, striding impatiently far ahead, dark skin gleaming and muscles rippling. Always lean, now he looks gaunt. My heart feels heavy. This may be my last goodbye with him and I don't feel ready to make it. Are we ever ready?

The first day passes in a haze of sweat and heat and bustling in the kitchen. Fish cutlets for dinner, a bridge too far for Dasamaama. His stomach can no longer cope with even that, let alone the scorching chillies of the past. A restless night, antacids the outcome. The second day was better. The opportunity to reminisce with him, to tell him of our potential futures. Not all our futures are rosy. Dire and depressing, hard to bear for the young, necessary to hear for the old.

Already the passing of his younger sister is playing on his mind. Now I have added to that with news of his even younger nephew. But we are old now, he and I. The days of my childhood exist only in my memory. As the song goes... those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone. Childish thoughts evaporate like mist and we are forced to face the stark, grounded and cruel reality of our own mortality. With immense sadness, I sought his blessing and parted, perhaps for the last time.

The time has come,

For closing books and long last looks must end,

And as I leave,

I know that I am leaving my best friend,

A friend who taught me right from wrong,

And weak from strong,

That's a lot to learn,

What, what can I give you in return?

If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start,

But, I would rather you let me give my heart...