bad, sad things happen:
When i heard the wailing cry i just knew that something wasn't right. I knew that someone was dead. Nobody can emit such a sound unless in the deepest throes of grief and loss.
In boarding school i dreaded that sound. Every year without fail a sombre relative would come to deliver news to an unsuspecting student that a parent, sibling, close relative or friend had passed on. Then you would hear it, that cry.
The kind of cry that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The cry that we secretly hope is not catching and does not find its way to us.
Saturday night, i heard that cry.
The caretaker of the complex where i stay was gunned down in a senseless mugging, no less than 20 feet from my complex gate.
His widow's grief was made known to us all.
we have to start somewhere:
During the Sunday church service i attended a man stood before his community, family and friends and asked for their forgiveness.
He did not make any excuses for his actions, no detailed backdrop was provided to explain as to how he'd got to such a low point in his life and committed such a heinous deed.
Instead he acknowledged his actions, owned them and spoke the tale of his road to recovery, enlightenment and forgiveness that had led him back to the very community that he had torn himself apart from through his actions.
How do you begin to ask for forgiveness for murdering your parents? Forgiveness from God, the deceased, from yourself, your loved ones and your community...how do you begin?
You just do. You start and you never stop asking.
This man shamed me, not because of what he had done, but rather because he highlighted what i was not prepared to do. Here he stood in front of people still harbouring anger, pain and resentment and he still asked for the impossible, had the courage to try and express his regret and rehabilitation...and here i am, refusing to let go of the petty grievances i harbour against others and through sheer cowardice, avoid to initiate the necessary conversations required to begin the healing process.
We must try.
We must start.
we just don't get our way:
How do 460 tickets get sold out in 1 minute? Internet connectivity in South Africa is decent but i sincerely doubt that those tickets, the tickets for a certain Ms Winfrey's show scheduled to occur on 30th November 2009, sold out to consumers on-line in less than a minute. The promoters claim no pre-bookings or pre-sales occured prior to the tickets becoming available online. Women stood in queues in their numbers only to be turned away when not even one person had been able to purchase a ticket.
Foul play is suspected from my end.
*shrug* Twas too much to ask perhaps, that things go as they are said to go.
monday's don't entirely suck:
Meetings are upbeat. The day does not drag. Deliverables are completed. The hot chocolate machine out-does itself with the foamy froth fluffed to perfection.
it all comes together and you just know...you know?!
Feel free to share your "sometimes" in the comments.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Less than 3 hours till this Monday is officially done and i may just be a teeny bit sad to see the back of it. Things went the way they should and i am glad.
I will now nurse my lemon ginger tea while the rain serenades me and i attempt to keep sleep at bay (an exercise in futility).
Sleep tight chickens,