Ma Wa Gray

When our carpenter carved us He was humming a song, When He ran his hands over the fibers that would make us He saw the complexity and intricacy of us.  We are not straightforward Wood. We are singers, writers, artists, actors, dancers, florists, gardeners, healers, food providers, creators. In us He sees a reflection of His deepest, most passionate self.  Today we commit into the care of our Creator one of our own.  We already know that Teddy's Heavenly work has begun. We see this in the meteors and rainbows that blaze across the sky everytime we think of him.  We see it in the eyes of strangers when we share his story and somehow they find comfort in their own grief because of him. As I drove in my car at 10.00 this morning  wishing that I could be in Cape Town with Quanta and Nick this is the image God gave me.  We are Woods. And we are disparate and our lives have all turned out very differently. We have lost our own, sometimes early, too early for our ...

  The woman stands above the NICU cot. She gazes down at her great grandson. There is only deep deep love for her flesh and blood, nothing human remains in her, just love and peace and joy.  She reaches down and caresses his little face, his body, his feet, she holds his fingers. Deep inside him his spirit stirs. His flesh and blood recognize his own. She is his own and she belongs to him. His spirit smiles in recognition, it won't be long now and then he can take his first walk. The humans around his cot anxiously check monitors and tubes and catheters and beeps. They are trying their absolute best. As they work prayers are muttered under their breaths. This little guy has really has got under their skin, they want more than anything for him to live and to know joy and freedom. There's something special about him. His great grandmother agrees but knows that for these prayers to be answered a different outcome will need to happen.  As a nurse starts to get overwrought in ...

All birthing stories are hectic. Because they were quick, or slow, because they were emergencies, or perfect, or because the babies were big, or small, or born loud or silent. Because birth plans are like parenting plans, they don't exist the moment you realise that, as a parent the control ship has sailed and you are merely a passenger. And you're not actually on a ship, you're in a space rocket, and the manual you're holding is for a donkey wagon, and it's written in Taiwanese. The stories are generally and hopefully great, after the fact. A good yarn to spin the night before your eight year old's birthday. 'Your birth was life changing and amazing... yes, I was induced, and there was meconium when they broke my waters, and your heart rate dropped and you were over 4kgs and you tore me open like a massive jagged mango and I didn't think I would ever sit again... but it was life changing and amazing.'  But as mothers that day, those days, never leav...

 The above picture is singlehandedly both the worst and the best picture ever taken of me. And because Dan Eager's try will go down as a truly iconic moment in Kearsney's history my double chins and psychotic eyes will now also be immortalized. The photo has gone viral and has given my family, friends and vague acquaintances great, great joy.  But I love this picture for all its horror because it shows me for who I am. It is a raw statement of my spirit.   Because I am a witness. Because I celebrate the victories of those I care about with wild abandon and overzealous joy. Because when the people I love win, I win. And because I always want to be on the sidelines cheering you on, in victory, or defeat.  This intense need to see my people flourish is why I became a teacher. When I was considering the various options of study when doing my MA the choices were to go the fame route and develop myself as an actor, director and scriptwriter or to study applied theatre...

  It was a bad night last night. Gray vomited for most of the night. Stephen silently nursed his impending stomach bug. And at two in the morning I Googled things I shouldn't like - 'Child just had swine flu, now has stomach bug. Low white blood cell count - what does it mean? Is house mould making my child sick? Autoimmune disorders. Symptoms for lupis'.  Early this morning, before the sun rose, I emailed my various bosses to tell them I would not be coming in to work today. Due to various commitments in the past three weeks I wasn't able to nurse Gray through his tonsillitis that then developed into swine flu. I worked Sundays and every weekday til 22.00. It's a busy time in my job and I sucked it up.  But this morning I just knew I couldn't leave Gray sick at home one more time. Despite all the guilt I associate with leaving colleagues and students in the lurch I put on my big girl mom panties and made the call, despite the nagging doubts that maybe I should ...

  Brenda feels like she hasn't stopped. Because she hasn't. It hasn't been by choice. Ever since that blasted 'Inside Out' flick came out she's been terrified that her children's core memory islands are going to be 'Air fried pizza', 'Benign Neglect', 'Mom is on her phone again' and 'I've watched this episode of Rescue Riders 235 times'.  Brenda has milked the last ounce of 2023 energy to ensure that her kids have laid down some core festive season memories that would put Bluey's Mom to shame. She also hopes the Instagram reel of their December holidays will put Ingrid, her arch nemesis from Under 9 Club Rugby, to shame.  This year was a trinomial of festivities. Time in the Berg with family, a quick soiree to Jozi with the in-laws followed by a week at the beach with people whose children are almost as beautiful as Brenda's which makes for fantastic Facebook pictures and posts about the joy of childhood friendship...

It's Christmas morning. My elderly father-in- law and I are seated in the lounge and have been let off kitchen duty. Him due to stuffed kees thanks to a youth spent playing rugby for Natal and me with a spasming back because I'm 40 and I got out of bed incorrectly last night. I've been eying his zimmer frame covertly all morning. Right now that piece of machinery would be right up my shuffling alley. For a newly injured invalid I've started to check out the toilet rails in my in-laws home much like I would normally check out the peppermint crisp tart that my mother-in-law makes.  It has been a rough week injury wise. It's like my body heard the repeated chorus of 'happy birthday' at my various soirees and said, 'Oh so you're 40 now? Kiff, hold my beer.'  This week I've already had injections into my shoulder to stem the pain of what appears to be a rotator cuff injury, possibly a tear. As a result of that the referred spasm in my neck had me ...