As the Tides Change

Adorned by its cheery colours of reds and pinks, the fourteenth of February brings passionate loins together and foes alike. Whether you are a hopeless romantic or a staunch romance killer, from each of us, day seems to bring out a chuckle or two. However, to echo a song sung by many, “The courses of true love never did run smooth”.

Taking a step back from the commercial European love affair, down in the lush fields of tiny Bushbuckridge; Valentine’s Day plays a different love tune. For as good as my memory can serve me, this day resembles a grand annual family and friends gathering. Out at Stella’s Café- which is named after my late Gogo, Babe (meaning dad in siSwati) caresses his piano to Make’s (meaning mum in siSwati) joyous voice as she sings, “ebony and ivory, live together in perfect harmony…”. A fairy-tale it was as most of the neighbours gossiped about my parents’ love display. Yet behind closed doors the melodies of “ebony and ivory” sounded more bleak and empty. As this course of love between Babe and Make took a stand away from the watchful public eye, little or no affection was exchanged. That really left puny me confused and unsure about this thing called love. Right before us, the love duo died which sought Babe leaving the front door to never return.

 A number of years later, the lasting memory of our beloved gatherings at Stella’s Café on the fourteenth now seems to haunt me. As for the reasons behind Babe leaving never to return to his piano has since eluded me. Anyway, I cried enough a fountain about it. It was now big Sis who embarked on a love express. Coincidentally, on the fourteenth of February whilst on a business trip in Barcelona, a handsome lad named Matthew Peterson feasted his eyes on a lovely young lass named Pat (my sister of course). Without much deliberation, love ties were exchanged, babies were made and the fourteenth remained, oh so we thought it had. Like a recurring nightmare that one has no control over, dear Mr Peterson walked out the front door (I had hoped in pursuit of his long lost father-in-law). Like his estranged father-in-law, he never returned. To date we have lived to tell the tale, the courses of true love appear to be on a winding-road, to where it leads one may only imagine. The experiences we endure may not be the sweetest yet, it won’t hurt us to remain hopeful and make lemonade out of life’s lemons. Babe and Make and Pat and Mr Peterson probably did not find true love, but that is only unique to them, your fate may be completely different.