Missive From Glam'ma - Neil

“Grandchildren now don't write thank-yous for the Christmas presents. They are walking on their pants with their cap on backward, listening to the Enema Man and Snoopy, Snoopy Poop Dog.”
― Alan Simpson

Dearest Nunu,

You’re not a twinkle in your father’s eye anymore; you’re a reality. I saw you in all your glory on WhatsApp when your Mom sent us the sonar photograph. Welcome to the womb, my sweet boy!
When I was a girl, my Granny used to send me postcards from all over the world. I loved them and eagerly awaited them as a child. She was an avid traveller, and with words and pictures she made herself known to me, and I visualised her in all these exotic places doing daring things.

Today I’m not going to introduce myself to you, but your Dad; I think it’s a grand idea for you to know the man he is before a Gynaecologist formally introduces you in a few months. Forewarned is forearmed, they say.

He was born on the 20th of September 1982, a Monday, a day associated with grace, making his birth even more special in our family history.

According to the Native American calendar, your Dad is an OWL, and this is what they say: “Owls, which have been called cats with wings, are the silent hunters of the night, which makes them the keepers of secrets. These solitary birds don't feel the need to proclaim their presence to anyone until the timing is right. Owl comes to us when we need to open our eyes and study the situation at hand. If we watch and listen with our inner selves, we can figure out what is happening behind the scenes and confront those who are trying to deceive us at the appropriate time.”

When I was pregnant with your dad, I didn’t have the luxury of an all-knowing, all-telling Sonar. I did, however, know he had all his extremities, but we had to wait a full 42 weeks for him to make his rapid and virtually painless appearance. He weighed in at a massive 10 lbs 5 oz. He was beautiful, with a bald head, huge hands and feet, and muscled thighs; we could see he was a very healthy boy. We were delighted, our second son, a soul mate and a lifetime friend to his elder brother.

In our family, there was no discussion about names; he would have his maternal Granddad's name. His Grandpa was pleased as Punch and still adores him as he did on that very first day. His eyes light up at the mention of his name, and I always notice an extra puffiness in his chest when he hears of new escapades. His name means “God’s honour,” and some of his traits include a deep inner desire for a stable, loving family or community and a need to work with others and be appreciated. People with this name tend to be idealistic, highly imaginative, intuitive, and spiritual. They seek spiritual truth and often find it. They tend to be visionary and may inspire others. If they fail to develop their potential, they may become dreamers or misuse power.

He was a delightful baby as long as he was fed, dry, and burped. He could sleep for hours, and on more than one occasion, I did the mirror test to see whether he was still breathing. He was eager to catch up with his brother, so he quickly reached most of his milestones; he hardly crawled before he walked, and then ran. In my mind’s eye, I always see him decked out in his favourite red overalls with a large yellow floppy hat on his head, pushing his big Massey Ferguson tractor. He was boisterous, energetic, and inventive. To me, he epitomised my brother, who is kind, soft-spoken, gentle, and caring. When they smile, their faces light up with joy, and their toothy grins are infectious.

The Earth captivates him; he spends hours playing in the garden, digging and shovelling, embodying a love for nature that inspires admiration and hope for his future connection with the environment.

As gentle as he was, though, he could get really irritated; he didn’t suffer fools gladly and didn’t spare the punches physically or verbally. He was delighted when his Dad bought his first ski-boat, but really humiliated when it proved to be a leaking tub and had to be towed into harbour by a jet-ski.

He was Captain Courageous, fearless, impulsive, and devil-may-care. I vividly remember him falling off his bicycle, skidding face-down on the tar road, getting up, his face a mangled mess of gravel and blood, to get back on his bike and pedal on.  He built go-carts, spending hours perfecting the steering and alignment, but neglected the braking system!  The first test drive was down a steep hill!

He challenged us in many ways, as he is strong-willed, determined, and single-minded in all his pursuits, proving that failure is not easy to accept, that learning from his mistakes is unacceptable and desperately disappointing, and that, no matter how trivial he finds his own shortcomings, he finds them devastating.  He is a loyal and trustworthy friend, even if it's to his detriment, and would bravely shoulder the blame and never let on who's at fault.  Like the three Musketeers, it's always all for one and one for all.

Punctuality was not a strong suit, and he could while away the hours dreaming his dreams; the trek to school, two blocks away, a mountain too high to climb, and I’d find him dawdling hours after he was meant to be at school. As you’ll see one day, he’s very competitive and loves sport; he was a brilliant long-distance runner, rugby player, cricketer and a crack shot. I was his first bull's-eye when he almost catapulted me into oblivion when the small stone hit me right between the eyes. This was after I’d warned him not to take a shot at anyone. He was 4!

His determination is something to admire, and at the age of 6, he completed a 22km cycling tour going uphill and down dale at lightning speeds on a juvenile bike with “perm tubes” and no gears. He was hot and sweaty, dehydrated and exhausted, never stopping at any of the watering holes, and came flying in at the finish line well before many adult riders. This courage and sheer bloody-mindedness made him excel at cross-country running and long-distance athletics.

Your Dad’s life changed when he married your Mom; she makes him whole, gives him purpose, and, I believe, she’s his best friend, soulmate, and life partner in the true sense of the word. According to the Bible, he is commanded to LOVE her. I know he does, with his whole heart and soul. He speaks of their life together with pride, and he’s eagerly awaiting your arrival and preparing for it.

I know his life and his outlook on life are going to change the minute you make an appearance. He will love you unconditionally, care for you to the best of his ability, and, with your birth, you will cement your foundations. We all, and especially your father, need a family with the bonds of love and unity it offers, and I know he’ll do everything he can to provide a happy, safe, and loving home for you.  I can confidently say he'll be the best dad you'll ever have or wish to have.  You're lucky.

Children are always an improvement on the template, as I’m sure you will be too, having the best traits from your Mum and your Dad. You have already shown your mettle, your fighting spirit, your will to live, and your determination, a lot like your brave, dynamic, and funny Dad. I can’t wait to meet you and see the miracle they produced.

I’m not too sure how to sign off, as I could be your Gogo (African), Ouma (Afrikaans), Grandma (English), Oumie, Granny (like I did), or Glam’ma (new age). I think I’ll wait and see what you choose.

P.S I had amazing grandparents; they loved us unconditionally, but did expect Thank-you letters! My Granny Jo also said, “One can’t be too thin or too rich,” and from an early age instilled in me a love of books, gardening, travelling, bridge, smoking, Champagne, Gin and Tonic, oh, and last but not least, Chicken à la King from a tin. My boy says I’m a hell driver; I got that from her too. From my Ouma, I learnt to be brave, to wear red lipstick, to be groomed and sometimes sophisticated; she also bequeathed to me her most valuable trait, her love of words, learning, and writing stories. I hope you pick up some of my quirkiness!

P.S.S You and I are lucky we live in the age of technology, information, and communication; we’ll Skype, WhatsApp, Twitter; we'll be buddies on Facebook, FaceTime will be our preferred form of communication, I’ll see you grow up on Instagram, we’ll play Trivia Crack and Scrabble as soon as you can spell! Wow, what a wonderful world it is, Master Jack.

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