Trauma, Healing, Gratitude – Part Two

Shortly after my late sister Fiona’s birth the doctors noticed that her little hands were deformed, in that she was born with five fingers and no thumbs.

Fortuitously Dr Jack Penn a well-known plastic and reconstructive surgeon, sculptor and founder of the Brenthurst Clinic, was consulted. Over a period of time and a series of operations, that brilliant man transformed her hands, by rearranging the digits in the fifth finger and grafting muscles, he created two beautiful thumbs, thus transforming her hands and her life. My mother had to spend weeks with Fiona in Johannesburg, Vanessa and I had to spend time with friends.

In 1966 my father was desperately ill, he was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia and as a result had to have his spleen removed and spend three months in the Provincial Hospital in Port Elizabeth. We were living in Port Alfred at the time, my mother thought it best that she spend time with my father, so the three of us were invited to stay with the Reed Family. Trevor and his wife Elaine (Dairy Farmers who lived on a farm about 5 km from Port Alfred) were wonderful substitute parents. They were always so thoughtful and kind to us. I have such fond memories of playing in the milking shed, feeding the baby calves, so many places to hide during hide and seek and swimming in the dam.

In another turn of events, my mother, my two sisters and I were diagnosed with heart problems.    Towards the end of 1970 we were admitted to Groote Schuur hospital to undergo heart surgery. In fact this event made headline news around the world. The first time in history that a mother and all her children were diagnosed with the same defect, not only that, we were also diagnosed as having Holt-Oram Syndrome a bone defect that also causes heart problems. I will always be grateful for the fact that the late Prof Chris Barnard took care of my father and all of us in such a profound and gentle manner.

Our childhood was traumatic to say the least; I was six years old when Fiona was born, eleven years old when my dad was ill and fourteen years old when I had heart surgery.

Not only was our childhood traumatic it was also deeply disruptive, it also had a profoundly negative impact on our schooling.

I often wonder why my parents never ever realised that we were in need of deep counselling in order to address our anxieties, insecurities and fear of abandonment.

Several years ago, I decided to work in the United Kingdom as a live in Carer.

Personally, this was a life changing experience, as it afforded me the opportunity to spend time in deep introspection, I read and journaled and addressed the fact that I needed to examine my insecurities and fear of abandonment. It was also time to put healthy boundaries in place. In that space I came to the realisation that I wanted to spend more time in the presence of God, something I had neglected for a very, very long time.

While reflecting on all of this, I made a bold decision to phone a family friend, a retired Methodist Minister, who knew my parents very well. I made an appointment to meet with him, whereupon I spent the entire time bawling, buckets of tears. That was such a cathartic experience, thereafter we arranged to meet twice a month for a chat and a catch up. For the first time in my life, I just let it all ‘hang out’ the good, the bad and the really ugly. I was on a path to healing. In our sessions we talked about God, the weather, sometimes we told jokes, talked about books, the wonderful practice of meditative and contemplative prayer. It was a space where I could explore and learn about liberation theology, radical love and inclusion.

In that space I learned to forgive my mother – we did not enjoy a healthy relationship; her behaviour was troubled and fuelled by anger. I also felt free to share the devastating effects of the death of my little sister Fiona, who passed away two days after my 60^th birthday.

Today, is my 69^th birthday, my heart is filled with gratitude.

I share my life with a wonderful person and two rescue dogs. I am surrounded by friends and family whom I love dearly and I am assured of their love and care. I am in a very good space and creating and writing this blog has been such a wonderful experience in that I have confidence in telling my story, and in so doing I hope it will inspire others to tell theirs.

I will continue to be curious, to seek and embark on adventures, to laugh loudly and behave in a (dis)graceful and whacky manner.

I am at peace and in a place of contentment, I love and am loved.