friday.

cheese and crackers and a silent house.

deadlines conquered and spoken words done.

hardest decisions ever made. concluded.

deals struck, feet hurt.

running against the clock’s awkward march towards forever.

and i sit.

i look at my friends upon my screen, my family in their frame.

my foot aimlessly kicks a soccer ball left under my desk by my daughter.

my phone buzzes with another text from someone special.

my kettle boils itself again and my iTunes flips over to my favourite song.

i think of my mum on the phone this afternoon smiling so widely and calling me by my family nickname.

my mind wanders back to a time in my life when i didn’t know who i was and i left that up to other people decide.

they told me they knew best for me, after all.

i grin and know how very wrong they were. how very wrong they still are.

the best for me? the best for Cam?

is this life. this divine, sad and you-have-to-lose-to-win-somewhere, life.

i’m thankful for the people who believe in me when i cannot believe in myself.

i’m thankful for the warmest hugs and the brightest smiles.

i’m grateful for the criticisms, given in respect.

and i’m thankful for the courage to continue.

i am at peace with the past.

i love the way the future dances for me.

i love the way it asks me how i’d like to join in.

my divine friends.  they have a hard time being objective. because of their love for me. but heaven help anyone who steps in my path, because they’ll knock them to the floor faster than a broom kicked over.

my beautiful daughter. her effervescent joy for life. her all-encompassing love for the flowers. the joy in her face when she sees me. our morning hide and seek game.

my you’re-all-fucking-mad-but-i-love-you family. with their joking jibes and concentrated concern.

my beaming nieces. Aunty Caff, they call me. their little kisses on my cheek.

and when you said…

when you said, all those years ago…

“you’ll never make anything of the life you’ve been given because you won’t give your life you”…

you were right, you know.

so i did.

how glaringly right you were. i miss you my friend. you and your fits of rage at me, and the laughing. the shifting of feet.

today is 12 years since you left us.

i am forever thankful for your presence in my life at that formative time.

i am forever thankful that i have continued to sing so very badly, at the top of my voice, even when it hurts other people’s ears.

how you would laugh now. how you would look at the slipstream and say “i’d say i told you so, but, you know i don’t say that to you”.

how you would berate me for so many tattoos yet, still come with me for the next one.

how you would have phoned me up, demanded coffee and left your gigantic shoes on the floor whilst we went and played our very own “crapcricket” and used it as an excuse to rile each other up.

how we would have cried for each other’s pain.

how you would have said “i’m sorry that people fail you. you don’t fail them”

how you would tell me to slow down and then shock me into speeding up.

how we would have said “FTW!” and not meant For The Win.

you’d ask after my mother and demand we go and see her and check on the cats.

i’d make you promise not to dominate the conversation.

and you’d listen to her speak.

how you would swing Cameron around and ask her if you could come to her year-end concert to watch her sing.

how our children..even though yours are older than Cameron..would play and we would laugh at how mine is probably the best disciplined.

and i would smile.

i would smile because you would be in my home again and there would be a grin wider than the sky at my door.

you are missed my friend. You are never forgotten.

In every moment.

In dark nights, and bright celebrations.

You are never forgotten

I am forever thankful for every day.

JM – gone  12 years. always with me.

in one week

in just one week

alot has happened.

i’ve been on the radio, been forced to talk about me for a change.

been forced to think about me for a change.

through a lot of SKOOLING and late night phonecalls

i’ve had a lot of essential perspective on my life, career, heart, self, work, love…

by friends.

but.

BUT. There’s one person I want to mention in particular after this week.

It’s someone unexpected.

It’s someone i am proud to work with, proud to call my friend and to whom i owe a lot of gratitude.

Thank you Mr Mills. For listening, supporting, relating and late night phonecalls.

And, the fish advice

last night Cam and I did the big “GIRLS NIGHT IN”

which included:

*takeout

*doing our nails

*facemasks

*doing our hair

*making a ton of popcorn

*chickflicks (anything with a girl in a wedding dress in it and Cam is SO THERE, although she professes she does not want to get married, just wear the pretty dresses ALOT hehe…)

*talking

*cuddles

*sleep

Tonight, I’ll be at the Durban 27dinner

Tomorrow, I think I need to go fish shopping

yep, another one died. I am a bad fish mama. fish go to heaven via the toilet. apparently, according to Cam:

‘mom, God’s funny with his special fish to heaven portal’

…and then i AM chilling out.

i AM breathing out.

i will, by monday, be…

thinking about Cape Town again

because i’ll be there on friday.

to exhale again.

Before I even begin to talk about this, you may be wondering…

Who the heck is this chick to talk on such an important and highly sensitive topic? So, let me introduce myself, for those  of you who don’t know me.

I’m, like the blog URL says, Cath Jenkin. Unashamedly so. Who am I? Well, to pay the bills and do what I believe I can do in this little (yes, I really am this short) body and with this beautiful life of mine, I am the IT and New Media Manager for HIV-911. HIV-911 is a referral network of HIV/AIDS service providers which enables people in South Africa to access information and know where to go when they need to know something about HIV, want to be tested, need help, need treatment, need care…and need love. At HIV-911, I get to be involved in an abundance of empowering technological projects that aim to enable people in need to get the help they deserve.  HIV-911 enables me to be who I am, and lets me fulfill my true soul desire to do something to help other people who cannot or feel they cannot help themselves.

That’s by day. By night, I work and write for a premier Web Development company, The Forge. I’m lucky to be blessed with enough trust and insomnia, to channel all my energies into things that I love to do. And The Forge lets me be creative in an environment that excites me.

The symmetry? Both organisations are run by superwomen.

Sometimes, I write for Parent24. Sometimes I write just for me. Sometimes I even write for you.

But, the most important name and title I own, is mama. I am a single mom to the world’s most precious princess, Cameron. She is four and every day, I am thankful that she chose me to be her mom.

So, now you know.

One thing most of you don’t know. Is that the 16 days of activism campaign means more to me than just a campaign.

One of the people you think of during this time, who have been victims of domestic violence and abuse, is me.

Sure, I am one of the lucky ones. I was able to remove myself from it. I was not physically scarred for the rest of my life. I was able to get the help I needed. I had good friends and I had the power to not be in that situation anymore. Most people do not.

Abuse isn’t just smacking someone into the floor, or a wall. It’s also about emotional abuse. It’s also about the domination of one person over another. It’s about the gulp in your throat late at night when you do not know who is coming home to you, and whether or not you’ll be okay in the end.

I survived. I got out. I won. And every single day, I live.

But, I’m not here to talk about me anymore.
I’m here to talk about the people who help people like me. I’m here to talk about the people who are the light at the end of the tunnel, and who hold the hand of someone in pain. I’m here to talk about the people who are the enablers towards a future.

As part of the Foschini Group’s 16 Days of Activism campaign, I am honoured to be asked to talk about these tireless heroes and heroines.

Because I am a proudly Durban girl, I chose not only an organisation I know well and work with but one that is situated close to me.

Life Line runs a wide variety of variety of programmes, geared towards helping people in crisis, move towards a future. From children, to families, to men, to women, even possibly…you.

Life Line operates a 24-hour, confidential counselling line on 0861-322-322

Life Line’s counsellors are compassionate, caring and well-trained. I know. They’ve counselled me before. Life Line’s counsellors are not afraid to be human, and won’t let you feel alone. Life Line’s counsellors are truly THERE for you.

I know. They have been there for me before.

Life Line aims to remind people in need that, no matter what, no matter how very deeply down a dark tunnel they are, they are not alone. Not only that, Life Line looks to empower and educate and so, runs numerous training and capacity building programmes.

Life Line is not a rich organisation. It does not seek to make profit off pain. It does not exist for any other reason than to help people in need and support them through the darkest hours of life.

It is run by heroes and heroines.  Who love beyond themselves. I am thankful to them today, for existing. For never giving up. For always keeping the faith in the face of a situation that seems like it has none.

They are the heroes and heroines that enable those in pain to speak. To speak out. To live again.

i know because im looking at you.

does anything else actually matter?

Dear Tertia

Thank you for this post.

Thank you for making me feel okay about not being good enough.

Thank you for making me feel okay about worrying about dummies.

Thank you for making me feel okay that it’s better that there are no tears for mama and child.

Thank you for your courage to share your life with the world.

It is you I thank every day, mama Tannie T.

Thank you for inspiring me to keep writing.

Thank you for reminding me that the decisions Cam and I make for our lives are ours, and not to be influenced by anyone else, no matter who they are, or what they say.

I am mama, and I know the best way for my daughter and I.

Thank you for making me feel brave enough to admit that yeah…

Nappies were gone by 2; bottles were gone during 3, dummies are going. but they’re not gone yet entirely.

(on that note, Cam has told me that she’ll give them up when I give up smoking. eek. she’s  a smart one, that one).

And, swimming lessons resume again next year. But that’s not my fault or Cameron’s.The important thing is that she is brave enough to begin again.

Thank you for writing that post.

Of every single one of yours that I have read (and yes, when I found you, I read every archive and every post so I can proudly say I have read every single one)… this one…this one had me entirely.

Thank you.

From one rocking mama to another, thank you for being you.

an artist at work

thank you for the photo.

thank you for making me smile.

i needed it more than you know.

pieces of pictures i’ve tied together.

i thank you for them.

Miss Gates

For this