A tribute to my daughter, who’s just passed matric

Written on Friday, 6 January 2017

Like so many things in life, my daughter’s passing of her final high school exam was not an event, but a journey. Like so many journeys, the ending could not have been predicted at the start.

In Grade 9, my daughter was diagnosed with depression. She was also diagnosed with ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). I would imagine the latter is a function of the former.  

Right at the outset, I want to say to all the cynics out there, who regard this as middle class, attention-seeking drivel – just be thankful you have been spared either of these conditions.

This did not come as a surprise to me. Besides intimately knowing the details of her difficult childhood, during which she had had to live in two houses (to conform to someone’s short-sighted model of post-divorce access to children as a mathematical equation), a period of many years during which she’d had way too much turmoil for someone that young, I was also the one who was exposed to her intense mood swings in her teens. While I did not have the background to diagnose precisely what was wrong, I knew it was, at the very least, unusual for someone to burst into tears, every single day, for no apparent reason. It was very difficult for me to see her in that state, day after day, and not be able to do anything about it.

Grade 10 was a challenging year for her for family-related reasons, as well – her brother had matriculated the year before, so he wasn’t around at school (they’re very close). More than that, he had also decided, after years of moving from house to house, to stay with his dad permanently. With that precedent set, she decided to stay with me permanently, a decision that was not respected by all. So she wasn’t seeing Nick - the only constant, loving presence for most of her life - at school, neither was she seeing him at home. This, alone, was a huge adjustment for her.  She missed him intensely, and somehow society does not give us enough space to express this basic emotion. I think she thought she had to carry on as usual and just deal with it, even though no-one was telling her to do so.

Towards the end of Grade 9, she started sessions with a psychologist she instantly connected with; this was after a long time of not wanting to speak to a psychologist (based on previous experiences). It was in the course of these sessions that she was diagnosed and then referred to a psychiatrist for an official (medical) diagnosis and a prescription for anti-depressants.  This was a big shift for us as a family, but when I saw the difference the meds made to her, and the positive effect on her sense of well-being, I knew that these meds, just like meds we take for any physical ailment, have a role to play in our lives. Again, with her condition not understood by all, there was scepticism. One learns to turn down the volume of the nonsense, after a while, and proceed with what makes the most sense.

One of the interesting things about life, I’ve found, is that even during our darkest patches, some amazing things can happen. In Grade 9, the same year that she started seeing the psychologist, she asked if she could go on a trip to Thailand (with World Challenge), and one of the main reasons I agreed to embark on that year of fundraising was that I was happy to see her excited about something, and I believed she would learn valuable lessons in the year of preparation, as well as on the trip itself – lessons that would equip her to manage her condition, which would enable her to live a life of purpose and fulfillment.

What many people did not know was that she’d started hating school so much, that she was convinced she was not returning to school after Thailand. This was a battle I had never anticipated, and I tackled it like I had done every other battle: I broke it up into little bite-sized chunks, and got through it, bit by bit.

Grade 10, the year she went to Thailand, was characterised by loads of crying, low self-esteem, feeling marginalised, feeling lonely, feeling nobody liked her, and, worst of all,  believing that she was not likeable; she hated going to school and struggled to get through an entire week of school. For a while, we explored other options, did internet research and spoke to people. Uppermost in my mind was her well-being, but so were financial considerations. It was unrealistic to place her anywhere we could not afford to, and she knew that. Her brother encouraged her to hang in there, and told her that all she needed to do each term was pass. I encouraged her to go back for a term, and then another, and then it was the end of Grade 10. She’d got through so much more than just an academic year.

Life often overlaps, I’ve found, so you can be dealing with a heavy matter, but still be posting happy pics on Facebook of some exciting venture you’re busy with. Once we find peace with this, life becomes less complicated. Summer was already on anti-depressants when she went to Thailand for 16 days. I am sure she was not the only one in their group of eleven 16-year-olds.

I may be wrong, but I think the trip was the start of the upswing. Friendships were started, others were strengthened, and she entered Grade 11 with a different energy. Yes, I could say she had resigned herself to finishing high school at that school, but I think she also started liking and accepting herself more. She was becoming more receptive to what life had to teach her, and definitely appreciating her uniqueness more.

She’d be the best one to tell you how she changed her life, but this is my perspective. She realised that Grade 11 was actually the start of preparing for the matric exams, so she went about her school work with more interest. She started using a diary, started setting goals (in different parts of her life), started enjoying making lists and managing her time better. I saw a new energy in her. She got better and better at finding ways to balance things, and used her sharp mind to figure out ways to manage the times when the symptoms got out of hand. I think that when she stopped seeing depression as a limiting factor, but as just another factor to be considered, she started to feel a lot better about life. 

She started journalling, and finding the value in planning, as well as of delayed gratification. She got better and better at this, and I witnessed her unfolding like a flower bud. She started blossoming. My baby was growing up. We walked some tough roads together, because finances were always tight, but even these experiences provided lessons about how material things were not as important as loving, accepting, and being there for each other.

I promised her a desk and a lamp, to help her study for matric and do her best. I focused on not judging her choices, but guiding, giving advice, speaking from experience, being flexible, loving her through everything, and never being harsh. The world can be harsh enough – you don’t need to come home to that as well.

When she was 17, I said, by way of giving her perspective: “Ten years ago, you were 7, and I was 44.” I was trying to tell her I had lived through so much, and learnt so many lessons; I encouraged her to learn from me, but to always be true to herself.

The thing that helped her turn her life around was gaining self-awareness – once she learnt about who she was, and that she was already special, she stopped looking outward for so much validation. She learnt that not every opinion expressed about her was necessarily true. She started liking and loving herself, and taking care of herself, finding ways to manage her depression, finding ways to accept herself even for waking up feeling miserable, finding ways to brighten up her gloomy days. She learnt to spoil herself when she felt down, by making cups of her favourite tea, or just lying in bed watching movies.

One of the things I consciously did, during this time, was allow her to stay home when she felt she couldn’t face a day at school. I was learning all the time, as well. And while I was aware that my flexible stance could potentially be exploited, I always wrote things down, so I kept track of when she stayed home, and made sure it didn’t happen excessively. I ignored judgmental input that this was indulgent: I was working with my instincts as to what was appropriate, and I regarded it as a short-term measure. I always believed Summer would emerge from the dark cloud that enveloped her, and see in herself - and in life around her - what I saw. 

In the process, she learnt more compassion than she would otherwise have learnt. She developed a strong sense of justice, championing the rights of others who are misunderstood, or discriminated against, for circumstances beyond their control.

As she learnt the many lessons available (e.g. ‘’It doesn’t have to be all or nothing’’), she realised that she could be someone on medication for depression, have her bad days occasionally, and still shine in other areas of her life. Once she started tapping into just how talented and gifted she was, she started emerging from her cocoon, and ever so slowly coming out and shining.

In Grade 11, she got more involved in things at school, and started performing more: she produced a stage piece called Gay Pirates, in which she also sang and played ukulele. She sang in a musical evening called Music Café. In matric, she won the senior public speaking competition, with a speech about fat shaming (of women) in the diet-pill industry, focussing on how the media perpetuates these gender stereotypes.

She studied in Grade 12 like she had never studied before, achieving excellent marks in both internal exams. Her September results won her a place among the top 20 matriculants at Westerford High, a school with exceptionally high standards. At their prize giving event, she won the trophy for the top student in Italian, an award for Academic Excellence, as well as the Senior Public Speaking award.

On the evening of her matric ball, she looked like a magical forest princess, a look she had been aiming for. A day after her matric exams ended, she started a holiday job. A month later, even before getting her matric results, she earned her first full month’s salary.

Her plans? To work for seven more months and save her money to visit a friend broad. In the meantime, she will also apply to study in 2018, as well as for financial assistance for her studies. And what will she be studying? Following her heart and working with her gifts and strengths – Musical Theatre.

I remember a very different Summer, in 2014, reacting to her brother’s six A’s in his final matric exam. She told me, with all the sass of a 16-year-old who had lived in her brother’s shadow, not realising there’d been no need to: “I am NOT Nick, so don’t expect ANY A’s in MY matric results!”

I couldn’t afford the desk and the lamp, but Summer passed matric with six A’s (distinctions), and one B. 

Elevator Pitch

Written Wednesday 11 January 2017

Almost a year ago, I met with a group of people I was about to start working with. One of them asked me to tell them about myself, focussing on what it was I’d be bringing to the organisation. Today I laugh when I think about how I prefaced my brief reply, but writing it now also shows me how far I’ve come since then. My response began this way (cringe): “Ooh, this is hard. I’m much better at being myself than talking about myself.”

Yup. The original Queen of Self-sabotage.

Fortunately, someone else introduced me to the team, telling them the professional and academic details on my CV, as well as personal qualities (which they would definitely not have heard about from me!) and work experience that made me suitable for the position.

Over the next few weeks, as I met more people, I started to see how commonplace it was to introduce oneself with a summary of one’s CV. Even though I think I’ve become better at it, I know why I said what I did: far too many people have glamorous-sounding CVs, and they use these to get all kinds of positions, but when you work with them, you realise that what’s on paper does not always match the performance. Basically, you get people working as cleaners, earning R4000 a month, with more common sense and basic decency than people with Masters degrees, earning at least ten times that amount.

You find people boasting about their very public achievements, even about how much money they have, but when you’re faced with the details of their work, you realise how little substance there was, and how much hot air; how little altruism, and how much self-aggrandisement.

When you work in the government sector, you have your job, you have your rank (‘’post level’’),  everyone knows what the limits are, and you just go about doing what you do. Many people allow it to define them. You earn the same whether you work hard, or take every possible shortcut, compromising quality standards. The only time you are ever required to talk about yourself in a self-promoting way is when you apply for a different post. Blah blah blah….

The private sector is completely different. Everyone asks you all the time, depending on the industry you work in and the number of new people you are exposed to. You have to be ready with what is called your ‘elevator pitch’ – basically, a succinct statement about yourself that would suffice for a quick conversation in an elevator.

I still think I’m better at being myself (and getting on with the job) than I am at talking about myself.

They do say, though, that success happens when preparation meets opportunity, so I probably should work on that elevator pitch. J  

Awareness

I recently started watching motivational speeches on Youtube, and have started applying some of the words of wisdom and practical advice to my life.

Tony Robbins, the popular American motivational speaker/life coach, says that there are two kinds of pain, and we have to choose one: discipline, and regret. This made me think.

Terry Crews, American actor and former American football player, says you have to change your relationship with the word discipline, and stop seeing it as punishment. He says that once you  start to view discipline as training, and as the key to your success, you will have a different relationship with the word.

His 5 keys to self-discipline are:
1. Remove temptation
2. Eat regularly and healthily
3. Don't wait for it to feel right (Don't go by how it feels, but by what it does)
4. Schedule breaks, rewards and treats for yourself
5. Forgive yourself and move forward (For those of us who abandon the goal when we hit that first failure)

Elizabeth Gilbert, author, says, especially to people who are struggling to find their passion:
''Follow your curiosity, and it will lead you to your passion.''

Someone told me this week that I was very lucky to know what I was passionate about, and to be actively involved in it.

Tony Robbins has really made an impression on me. He says, "Never leave the site of setting goals without achieving something towards your goal."

He gives advice on how to reach your goals (or make progress in life):
1. Have a vision that's compelling (you must feel excited when you think about it)
2. Have strong enough reasons to follow through when you hit challenges
3. Review your vision and feel it every day

He says that change is inevitable, but progress is not. He also says that lasting change is different to a goal, so you should always focus on RAISING YOUR STANDARDS.

Something else he says that inspires me is, "We live who we believe we are". He says these beliefs start when we're young, and they can limit us. If we want to live different lives, we have to retrain ourselves.

And here's the last one from Tony Robbins I want to share with you, and it may be an exercise you'd like to put yourself through:

1. Select an area of your life you'd like to change. Write down where you are now in that area of your life. Be honest, no matter how painful it may be.

2. Write down the rituals that brought you to this state - little things, routines, habits, patterns, repeated over many years.

3. What do you want, in that area of your life? What is your vision?

4. What are the rituals that will get you to your vision?

He says New Year's resolutions are easily forgotten, but RITUALS can last a lifetime.

So, which rituals will you be adding to your lifestyle?

I'm very excited about this new awareness.

Reflecting on 2016, Part 2

Written on Tuesday 03 January 2017

By the time we reached July, I was feeling a lot more settled in my job, and was getting used to negotiating my way through peak-hour traffic twice a day. In fact, my new car was such a novelty, I actually enjoyed spending time in it.

In July, I also confirmed my fourth annual December concert with Wayne Bosch. This was a big deal to me – it meant the start of months of planning! Another music project started in July, which saw me rehearsing for a trio concert with Mervyn Africa (pianist) and Errol Dyers (guitarist). The concert itself took place in August, at the Catholic Welfare & Development Centre, in Athlone. 

On 16 July, I went back to my restaurant gig at Sabria’s, after an eight-week break related to the month of Ramadaan. Sabria’s is a Muslim-owned restaurant, so they don’t have live music during the fast. It affects two weeks before and after the actual fast.

Summer and I went to see our next musical, My Fair Lady, on the 23^rd, at Artscape. Earlier that day, I attended the funeral of one of my favourite high school teachers, Maureen Adriaan. It was a time of deep sadness and reflection for us all, as we said goodbye to someone who had impacted so profoundly on our lives.

In August, we were still trying to find a dressmaker for my daughter’s matric ball dress.  

On 6 August, one of my cousins, Denzil Haupt, brought the whole extended family together to celebrate his 60^th birthday. A memorable occasion indeed. 

The next evening, I took part in the trio concert I’d been rehearsing for. I had no way of knowing it at the time, but it was to be the catalyst for something really special, a few months later.

In all this time, I continued dancing, as much for physical exercise as for psychological well-being. I’d long embraced the fact that challenges were inevitable, but that our attitude towards them – and to life, in general – was the key to getting through them. For me, this has to include some sort of physical exercise. Ironically, in 2016, my busy schedule and my tiredness (from all the challenges) often saw me skipping dance sessions. You get to midnight, you want to dance, but you also know that you need to rest and sleep, in order to recharge your batteries, and meet the next day’s demands.

My usual dilemma, late at night:  do I dance, journal, read, play guitar, or go to sleep? Typical Trudy.

At the end of August, my daughter started her September mock final exams. On 16 Sept they finished, and that same night was their matric dance. She looked like a beautiful forest princess – the look she’d been going for – and she had a great time.

On the last day of August, my 6-month probation period in my new job came to an end. Nothing happened - no lightning bolt, no drum roll, but I felt the significance of the day. I was about to turn 55, I had taken a huge leap of faith by changing careers, so getting beyond probation was a milestone I needed to observe, even if it meant quietly celebrating in my heart.

On 10 Sept, I turned 55. That night I sang at my weekly restaurant gig and didn’t tell anyone it was my birthday. Again, I marked the occasion in my own way. I felt like lucky and special, to be doing a full night’s solo gig on my birthday.  The next day marked 500 days since I’d started dancing. A good feeling. I was proving to myself that I had staying power.

I was delighted to be asked to do the live music at the annual TVET ICT Conference, for the third consecutive year. On 20 Sept, Keith Tabisher and I did the gig at the Lord Charles Hotel in Somerset West. It was a memorable evening, and we took some happy pics.

The third school term ended on 30 Sept, which meant we were just weeks away from the final exams. Exceptionally high marks in all her subjects rewarded my daughter for all the studying she’d been doing. She was shocked to end up as one of the top 20 matric students at their school for the Sept exams. I have to include this: She said that, when she fetched her award, she looked around at who was on stage and it was “all the clever people and me”. J

On 13 October, I attended the annual prize-giving event at my daughter’s school – an emotional evening for me. The next day, I attended their Valedictory service, the school’s final goodbye to their matriculants before their study break. The formalities were followed by refreshments, as well as the singing of the matric song for the parents.   

Shortly after that, we hit a strange but exciting combination of events – three days after my daughter started her matric final exams, I boarded a flight to Durban, with Mervyn Africa and Errol Dyers! We’d been invited to repeat our trio concert in Pietermaritzburg, as part of the 2016 Social Justice Film & Arts Festival, organised by PACSA (Pietermaritzburg Agency for Community Social Action), our generous hosts.  What an exciting experience!  On my return, after living as a full-time musician for just four days, I felt like I had undergone profound change, especially in the way I viewed myself and my choices. That new beginning is yet to be understood by others. I know what it means to me.

On 28 November, my daughter wrote her last matric exam, ending her high school education. All that remained was to receive the results on 5 Jan 2017. The next day, she started a holiday job, determined to save for some long-held goals. She plans to continue her studies in 2018.  

For me, November and December were the months in which I finalised (& obsessed about) the details of my annual concert with Wayne Bosch. Putting on a self-funded concert is no joke. It’s a huge risk, and one I take every year. I made some changes this time, but went into the concert with my eyes wide open, aware of the risks. Every year, the concert is an artistic success; I get to collaborate musically with my hero, I get to feature young artists, and I give Capetonians a festive season event to attend. I’ll keep working on the business concept, until I reach all my goals. 

December was a very lucky month for me - I ended up doing ten gigs. (See separate blog post.) I went on leave on 22 December, a day after my son’s 22^nd birthday. We don’t make a fuss on Christmas Day, and I was very happy to be asked to do a Christmas lunch gig at a fancy hotel. My concert was on 28 December, and New Year’s Eve found me back at Sabria’s. Skipped all parties, skipped the countdown. As the teens say, "Can't deal". 

In fact, this festive season, I skipped all kinds of social events that made no sense to me and that feed the capitalist monster. The excessive indulgence that gets confused with ‘tradition’ achieves so little that is truly meaningful. I have no interest in even pretending it’s ok with me. The only exceptions were when I could earn money through music, because music feeds my soul and every cent I earn goes into supporting my little family. Every single parent knows that those responsibilities do not take a festive break.  

And immediately after December comes January, itself a ravenous beast.

Many people made 2016 a very special year for me. I hope that I have adequately thanked them all.

I’d like to thank my children, Nick and Summer, for being the beautiful people they are. I am very proud of them, and feel like the luckiest person alive, to be their mother. Watching them become young adults, and seeing how they position themselves in this country of ours, with its widening gap between the haves and the have nots, is one of the most interesting things to me, as their mother. May they continue to be agents of meaningful societal change.

Peace

Reflecting on 2016, Part 1

Written on Friday 09 December 2016

Oh my word, it’s December! Seriously, where has this year gone?! Paging through my 2016 diary, I can hardly believe all of this happened in the same year.

I spent the first day of the new year (2016) relaxing at home, reflecting, and setting goals. That day I heard about the death of American singer Natalie Cole, aged 65. I felt incredibly sad, even though she wasn’t a personal friend. I knew of the hardships she’d dealt with, and I’d always loved her singing. In the first few days of Jan, I was busy practising songs for a family wedding. The wedding day itself became memorable to me for a rather unexpected reason – it was so windy, that one of my speakers blew into a man-made lake! Yup - started my year, not with a bang, but with a splash.

A few days before that, though, my daughter and I had gone to see the stage show, Singing In The Rain. What a superb production!!! It was the beginning of a year in which we’d decided we would see as many musicals as possible. It’s strange reading this in my diary now - I was without a car at that time, so everywhere we went entailed making transport arrangements, usually hiring cabs. Quite an expensive story.

The day before college reopened, I wrote, “Last day of glorious 4-week holiday!” Turned out to be my last 4-week holiday for a long time.  A few days later, my daughter started her final year of high school.

And then, on 19 January, my life changed. The person who had head-hunted me many months before for a position  for which I fulfilled all the criteria, confirmed that the position was definite; the next day, I informed our campus HR manager that I wanted to resign. After going through loads of formalities and a fair amount of confusion around my leaving date, I took my leave of College of Cape Town. On Thursday 25^th February, our campus gave me a very moving farewell, at which I bawled my eyes out, losing all composure. (We’re talking ugly cry.) What can I say? I feel things deeply. After three years and two months at the campus, I had made good friends and shared a lot of experiences with my colleagues. I’d suspected, all along, that, even though I had chosen to leave, saying goodbye would be hard. I was very happy that our English Department’s programme manager could be present.     

       

But February had also had another significant event: after 2 years and 3 months without a car, I bought a beautiful car. And what a difference it’s made to my life. Phew!

My last day at college was Monday 29 Feb (not a penny more, not a penny less), and the very next day I started my brand new job, in a brand new industry. For a while, I resented the fact that I hadn’t had a day or two in between, to gain closure, and I felt emotionally exhausted, making the change in that way.  I think I’ve dealt with that now. I’m ok. It’s what it was. Bureaucracy in the civil service is sadly lacking in logic. And life goes on. I had asked the universe, once again, for “radical, positive change”, and I knew the year ahead was going to shake any remaining tentativeness out of me.

On my first day in my new job, I had a thorough and impressive induction by HR. I knew, without a doubt, that I had left the government sector. I was happily back in the private sector. Every now and then, throughout 2016, it occurred to me that I hadn’t changed just jobs, but careers.

My daughter was very busy rehearsing for their school’s production of the musical, Hairspray, which impacted on our daily routines. Having the car made a huge difference!

Written on Sunday 18 Dec 2016

My new job found me doing a wide range of things, from sitting in board meetings to attending gigs of a big band. I spent the first few weeks establishing the scope of the job, putting my all into those tasks, and incrementally stretching myself, introducing systems that contributed to the smoother running of the project.  I felt more and more at home in the job, and was very happy I’d made the change.

I adapted to the ethos of the company, after my recent 3 and a half years back in the government education sector, and felt the excitement of having entered ‘a whole new world’. I was exactly where I’d wanted to be. Some people thrive on sameness, but I’m one of those who thrive on change. I loved being in an industry where that did not make me the odd one out!

On the last day of March, my daughter and I drove to Camps Bay, to see the musical, Sweeney Todd, at Theatre on the Bay.  Quite a different experience to 6 January, when we’d gone to see Singing in the Rain. Back then, we’d had to hire a cab to and from the theatre – a costly night out.

At the beginning of April, another wow was getting complimentary tickets to both nights of the Cape Town International Jazz Festival from our company, Independent Media, the major sponsor of the event. Seriously – how cool?!! On each night, I saw two shows that made all the crowd exposure (I don’t handle crowds well) worthwhile. On Friday it was Roberto Fonseca (Cuban, solo pianist) and Laetitia Dana (French vocalist with amazing band), and on Saturday it was Lizz Wright and …… CASSANDRA WILSON!!!!

Early in April, I also started going to the Delft Big Band Music Academy on Saturday mornings. This changed my weekly routine, and opened my life in interesting ways.

April – new guitar strings. J Yay!

April ended on a high note, quite literally, when the full-length documentary on my mother’s life, called ‘’May Abrahamse’’, had its maiden screening at Artscape Theatre, at ‘’Die Suidoosterfees’’, an annual arts festival. A product of film maker Lisba Vosloo, the doccie told the story of my mother’s life as an opera singer during apartheid-era South Africa, and how the political milieu impacted on her career. I went to both screenings, and was deeply moved.

May month found me busy working on the planning of another annual event, the Sekunjalo Edujazz Concert. Shadowing the event coordinator taught me a lot. I also got to meet the team at espAfrika. The annual concert was held on Saturday 4 June, at Artscape, with South African rising star, vocalist Jimmy Nevis as the celebrity headliner.

June itself was a month of significant change in my working life, as well as in my personal life, with the respective changes impacting on the rest of the year. All I can say, on reflection, is that many valuable lessons were learnt through both sets of circumstances, and my frames of reference have certainly grown. 

Yup. 

Gigs in December 2016

December 2016 was a very cool month for me, in terms of performing live music, as well as a new offer to perform regularly in 2017. I sincerely hope that 2017 takes its cue from December 2016.

My month of performing started on Saturday the 3^rd, with my weekly gig at Sabria’s Restaurant, in Wynberg, a suburb about 6km from where I live. My mom went with me, as it was her weekend with me. Two good friends I’d bumped into earlier that day came to have supper there - Chantel Erfort Manuel and her husband, Andre Manuel. They brought a friend whom I’d met through them many years before – Brandon. I love it when my friends come to the restaurant, so that was a special night for me.

The next gig was a week later, Saturday the 10^th, also at Sabria’s. When I arrived, I noticed that a table had been placed very close to where I normally set up, and I wondered how the evening would pan out. All was well, though. I knew one of the people in the party, and they all loved the music. While I was setting up, I mentioned to them that my music was generally soft, but that they should tell me if it was too loud for them to have a conversation. Always tricky – the softer the music, to accommodate people placed a bit too close, the harder it is for those sitting further away to hear me. I don’t play through the restaurant’s sound system, with speakers placed throughout the restaurant, so the sound comes directly from my speakers.

The next gig was a day later, Sunday the 11^th, at Corpus Christi Church Hall, in Wynberg. It was a seniors’ Christmas party, and we did a sing-along. The people present responded well, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I can’t even begin to describe how much it means to me to sing for seniors. Thanks to my dynamic friend, Anne Siroky, for inviting me to make a contribution with my music.

A few days later, on Wednesday the 14^th, I sang at an upmarket seniors’ residence called Evergreen, in Plumstead. A lady who’d been at the Corpus Christi event, who lived at Evergreen, had invited me to provide live music at their end of year party. This time, they chose not to do a sing-along, preferring to listen to me, but quite a few of them requested my business card.  I love the element of the unknown that every gig presents. It often necessitates thinking on my feet and rising to the occasion. I love it.

On Friday the 16^th, a public holiday, I sang one song at a service for my friend, Shaun Brown, who was ordained as a pastor. This was a very special gathering and it was a privilege for me to be included in the programme. It also turned out to be where I met up with someone I’d been in a band with many years ago, guitarist Clive Fester, who then opened up a few other performing opportunities for me. As I said on Facebook, I have encountered so many musicians who are not generous of spirit towards other musicians, that when I meet someone who is, it is such a pleasant surprise.  

The next night, Saturday the 17^th, found me back at Sabria’s, where Clive and his wife came for supper, with a table of friends. How cool?! That night was extra special for me, because not only was my mom there, but so were my children. My daughter filmed a few videos of me with her phone, and I was able to post one on Facebook.

Saturday the 24^th was my next Sabria’s gig, and I was alone – no mom, no kids, no friends. When I have none of my people there, I’m reminded that it is a job, after all, and that the magic is what you bring to it. The place was quieter than usual, but I loved the fact that I could still entertain the people who’d chosen to have their supper there that night.

Christmas Day was different to the last few years, because I had a gig! I performed with Clive Fester (guitarist) and Ebrahim Larney (vocalist) at The President Hotel, in Sea Point. Something I hadn’t done in ages was sing to backing tracks, which was how most of the gig went, with Clive adding live guitar. I did a few songs ‘’unplugged”, as they called it, basically singing and playing my guitar, and Clive provided a fuller sound with his beautiful playing. To my delight, he also did backing vocals on some of the songs I sang, giving them new life. I have done quite a few Christmas Day gigs, but not in the past three years.  It was a lot of fun.

And then the highlight of highlights of my musical experiences for 2016: Wednesday the 28^th, my 4^th annual concert with guitarist Wayne Bosch. We held it at Erin Hall, this time, as we had in 2013. It is an old church building in Rondebosch which was restored for use as a hall. It is used largely for spiritual events. For the past two years, our concert was held at the District Six Museum. This show was such a big deal to me, and satisfying in so many ways, that I have to do a separate blog post about it. I’m just waiting for more pics from the photographer.  

My final gig for the year was on New Year’s Eve, Saturday the 31^st: back at Sabria’s, the perfect place to round off a fascinating year of live music. Having my mom there, as well as my friend, Mary-Anne, made the evening really really special.

Wow! Can we do this again, January? :-) 

Oh, right - the NEW gig is a monthly morning market in Claremont, just next to Palmyra Junction, in Palmyra Road, just behind Claremont Station. It will be every last Saturday of the month, but the first one will be on SUNDAY 29 Jan 2017. 

Hello, 2017!

Today is my only sibling’s birthday. Happy birthday, Wendy! May the year ahead bring you great joy and peace. May life send you the perfect conditions for you to spread your wings and fly.

I feel a strong need to write a detailed post, reflecting on 2016, but this is not the right moment. I’ll do so at another time. In fact, I started that post a while ago, but didn’t finish it. I’m writing in the lounge, with my mom sitting next to me; she’s watching the South Africa-Sri Lanka cricket match (live from Newlands, in our city, Cape Town) on tv, and I need to keep my attention focussed on her, as well as my writing.

My mom is 86, and has had Alzheimer’s Disease for 4 and a half years. In fact, the first diagnosis was Amnestic Syndrome. A year later, her responses to the same set of tests revealed that the condition had progressed/regressed to Alzheimer’s.  These tests, including a brain scan, were conducted at the Memory Clinic at Groote Schuur Hospital. Important work is done at that facility. Mom’s whole life changed, in late March 2012. In fact, the change was so sudden and profound, that we were convinced she’d had a stroke. The brain scans revealed a series of minor strokes and not one major stroke, apparently not atypical for someone her age.

One of the changes was that my mom could not live alone anymore, neither could she take public transport on her own, because she’d become disorientated and forget where she was. Quite a few of my blog posts in that year give details of what was happening. She went from living independently in the granny flat on my premises, to a room in my sister’s home.  She no longer cooked her own meals or went out on her own. Four and a half years later, it is my opinion that the decline has been minimal, but maybe we’ve just become used to it.

So my mom lives with my sister and comes to me every second weekend. During the festive season, when I’m home for longer, she comes for a week at a time. She sleeps a lot, and doesn’t really have hobbies, except reading.  I have her piano, and when she’s here, I like her to play whenever she can. Sometimes she’s here for a whole weekend without playing, because she doesn’t believe she can play. Sort of how many people live their lives, turning down opportunities and sabotaging growth because of lack of confidence. Ironically, or thankfully, she’s in excellent physical health.

Mom loves company, as she always has. Not crowds, but small groups. Her social life has shrunk to being wherever the family takes her and being taken out by one or two loyal friends. Many people cannot handle being asked the same questions every few minutes, so socialising is very different now. Some people try really hard, but others find it awkward, and move away as soon as they can. I take her along with me to my restaurant gig every second Saturday night, and she hums along as I sing. Music was her life, so I can only imagine how she enjoys it. Everytime we’re there, I introduce her to the owner and the manager, and sometimes she says she knows them from somewhere. To my surprise, she engages in borderline-flirtatious banter with the waiters, all young men. The staff love her, and have given her the nickname, “Beautiful”. J I sometimes think I should arrange a song-along for her and her friends, but then life gets busy, and I forget.  

My son, aged 22, is about to write his final exams at UCT, having opted to write in January. He did 2^nd year courses in 2016, and will do another round of 2^nd year courses in 2017, because he changed his majors. He’s studying BA, majoring in English and isiXhosa. It’s been fascinating, watching him grow from a school pupil into a fine young man, with an inquiring mind and a strong sense of social justice.

My daughter, aged 18, is waiting for her matric exam results. Having achieved straight A’s throughout the year, her expectations are high. We’ll know in 3 days’ time - results are published on the 5^th. She started a holiday job a day after completing her exams, and will carry on working, to save money for an overseas trip in the latter half of the year. In 2018, she’ll go back to studying. At this stage, her heart is set on Musical Theatre. So sometime soon, we’ll have to get those applications submitted, and sort out the funding.  

I managed to get a two-week break from work, after 10 months in my new job, and I’m enjoying the time off. The first week of my holiday was dominated by my concert preparations. The event itself, my annual concert with guitarist Wayne Bosch, on Wednesday 28 December, was a highlight of not only my holiday, but of my year. This year it was held at Erin Hall, in Rondebosch (where we did our first one, in 2013). The past two years, we used the District Six Museum. It’s a venue I love, but it has some limitations for live performance. I missed aspects of it – especially the rich narratives within the museum and how connected I feel to those narratives – but was happy to perform my compositions at Erin Hall, another old building with a rich history and a warm atmosphere. My restlessness, something I’ve learnt to embrace, sees me introducing change wherever I can, just so that I can experience something different.  So much of life is about routine and sameness, that I crave change.

This is, of course, that time of year where we tend to reflect on the past year and look forward to the year ahead. For various reasons, I haven’t really immersed myself in it like I thought I would have done by now, but the year is young. I’ve given myself the whole of January to do so.

I did my last gig at Sabria’s for 2016 on 31 December, and established from the owner that I’ll be there for at least  the month of January. I’ve been there since 31 Jan 2015, so it’s been a nice long stint. My repertoire’s become a bit stuck, despite adding songs as I’ve gone along, and I want to be more jacked up in the year ahead, stretching myself musically. I love setting goals that are measurable, and adding songs to my repertoire is indeed one of them.

I used to believe that how you ended a year was an indication of how the next year would be, and if that is so, I’m going to have a 2017 filled with performing. In December 2016, I performed ten times – exactly what I had been inviting into my life: music!music!music!

Thank you, universe. I am very excited about 2017.